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PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS; 



TO WHICH ARE SUBJOINED, 



COPIOUS NOTES, 



CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY, 






A SUPPLEMENTARY NARRATIVE; 



WITH 



JJV APPENDIX. 



BY JAMES OGILVIE. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED BY JOHN CONRAD. 

J. Maxwell, Printer. 

1816. 






DISTRICT OF PENNSYLVANIA, to witt 

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the seventeenth day of October, in the 
forty-first year of the independence of the United States of America, A. D. 
1816, James Ogilvie, of the said district, hath deposited in this office the title 
of a book, the right whereof he claims as author, in the words following, 
to wit: 

Philosophical Essays,- to -which are subjoined, Copious Notes, Critical and 
Explanatory, and a Supplementary Narrative; -with an Appendix. 

In conformity to the act of Congress of the United States entitled, " An act 
for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and 
books to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein 
mentioned." And also to the act, entitled, " An act supplementary to an act 
entitled " An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of 
maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during 
the times therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of 
designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints." 

DAVID CALDWELL, 

Clerk of the District of Pennsylvania. 



CONTENTS. 



Preface, ------- iii 

Introduction, ------ x i 

Essay I. — On the Study of Mathematical Science, - - 9 
Essay II. — On the Nature, Extent, and Limits of Human 

Knowledge, 32 

Essay III. — On the Modern Abuse of Moral Fiction, - 148 

Additional Notes, ------ 267 

Supplementary Narrative, ----- i 

Address to the Candid Reader, - xciii 

Appendix, «-' - - - - - ci 



PREFACE. 



NEARLY seven years have elapsed, since the Au- 
thor of the contents of this volume, undertook a literary 
enterprise, of no ordinary magnitude and difficulty. 

In the prosecution of his design, he arrived a few 
months ago, at a stage somewhat critical: Farther success 
became worthless, or hopeless; without the acquisition of 
permanent and extended celebrity, as a philosophical 
writer. 

The views and motives, by which he was induced to 
undertake the execution of this enterprise, and the circum- 
stances which brought him, (somewhat abruptly,) to the 
stage to which he now adverts; are fully explained and de- 
tailed in a Supplementary Narrative. 

He could not stand still: He would not recede, and 
therefore must go on. 

Whether that share of permanent and extended cele- 
brity, which is essential to further success in the execution 
of this enterprise, be or be not, within his reach; will be 
determined by the reception of the volume, now offered to 
the public. 

Far from auguring a favourable reception as an author, 
from his success as a declaimer; he is fully aware, that this 
very success, is on several accounts unpropitious to tht 

a 



iv PREFACE. 

completion of the aspiring hopes, which he would gladly 
indulge. 

The eclat of popular declamation, on the Rostrum, de- 
pends upon so many circumstances wholly independent of 
superior capacity or cultivation; so many circumstances 
perfectly contemptible in the view of generous ambition; so 
many circumstances, compatible with mental imbecility, 
and even with depravity, in the characters of those who 
may obtain this eclat; that it would be difficult, even to 
imagine, a more equivocal or shallow evidence of personal 
merit, value, or virtue, than, (taken singly,) such success 
exhibits. 

Any thing, how superficial and sophistical soever in 
substance; however faulty, tumid, or meretricious in its 
style, if delivered with a certain degree of animation, ener- 
gy, and grace; will often not only escape censure, but even 
extort a plaudit, from a miscellaneous audience. 

It ought to be recollected too, that the attempt, (in the 
incipient stages of the enterprise which he has undertaken,) 
to exhibit specimens of luminous analysis, or philosophical 
reasoning, on the Rostrum; would not only have been pre- 
posterous, but a whimsical kind of suicide. 

Any public speaker, however gifted by nature, or graced 
by culture, with the natural and acquired powers of oratory, 
who may make this attempt, in the early stages of such an 
enterprise; may begin by addressing a very numerous and 
fashionable audience, but will assuredly close his oration, 
if he speaks three-quarters of an hour, in the presence of 
a very select one. 



PREFACE. v 

It would indeed be difficult to devise a more effectual 
process, for getting rid of all the admiring spectators and 
delighted auditors of popular declamation: of all the listless 
listeners, and yawning lookers on, who assemble to hear- 
ken " arrectis auribus," to Stentorian declaimers; clap, 
shout, stare and wonder at dextrous, or ambidextral gesti- 
culators and graceful attitudinarians. 

As a " caveat" against misconception, the author again 
intimates; that these remarks have relation only to the inci- 
pient and retrospective stages, incident to the prosecution 
of the design, which he has undertaken. 

A more enlarged view of the prospective dignity, gran- 
deur, and usefulness of the oratory of the Rostrum, will be 
afterwards presented. 

He charges no intelligent person, therefore, with illiber- 
ally or injustice, who refused him any portion of his admi- 
ration or respect, on the score of his success as a declaim- 
er; or who, viewing his pretensions merely in that light, 
may have been disposed to regard, and even brand him, as 
a literary empiric and adventurer. 

In his first efforts to execute this enterprise, it became 
in some measure unavoidable, that he should assume this 
character, and that he should appear in this character ex- 
clusively, to the view of a great majority of the intelligent 
persons to whom, (from the essential publicity of his exhibi- 
tions,) his name and pursuit became casually known. 

To have for years submitted patiently, (or as patiently 
as he could,) to the abhorred suspicions and misconcep- 
tions, which this character necessarily and justly draws 



Vi PREFACE. 

along with it; is not the least painful or costly sacrifice, 
which he has made, with a view to the ultimate success of 
an enterprise, as disinterested in its purpose, as grand and 
noble in its objects, as any that has ever awakened the as- 
pirations of philanthropy and generous ambition. 

He has at length, however, arrived at a stage in the pro- 
secution of his design, (and he is proud and happy that he 
has lived to reach a stage,) which calls for other and higher 
qualifications and accomplishments, than those of a popu- 
lar declaimer: And although at this stage, his self-love 
may be mortified, and his presumption punished, by a 
public exhibition of his deficiency in these qualifications 
and accomplishments; an opportunity is nevertheless af- 
forded him, to vindicate the disinterestedness of his pur- 
pose, and to exhibit the dignity and usefulness of his pur- 
suit, in a light so clear and conspicuous; as to make mis- 
conception impossible, misrepresentation impotent, and to 
strike disparagement and detraction dumb. 

Such are the views and motives, and such is the tone 
of feeling, with which the contents of this volume, have been 
prepared for the press. 

In selecting the subjects of the following Essays; in 
discussing the subtle and interesting questions which are 
involved in these subjects; in writing the copious and nu- 
merous notes which are annexed, and the singular narra- 
tive which is subjoined to these Essays; in a word, — from 
the first page of this volume to the last, these motives 
and views, and this tone of feeling; have never been, even 
for a moment, overlooked, postponed, or suspended. 



PREFACE. vii 

It will, he trusts, be admitted, that the subjects are 
fairly chosen; that they are subjects in the highest degree 
interesting and important, and fitted to exercise the inge- 
nuity, and task the strength of the most penetrated and cul- 
tivated intellect: In attempting to analyse and illustrate 
these subjects; no elegance of diction, no splendour of de- 
clamation, no artifice of rhetoric, no sophistical dexterity, 
(if the attempt be made through the medium of the press,) 
can, in an age like this, veil superficial thinking, or pro- 
tect elementary error, from certain and speedy detection; 
from ignominious and public exposure. 

In the progress of his attempt to analyse and illustrate 
these subjects, the Author has evaded the investigation of 
no question, which they fairly involve; turned his back 
upon no adversary, however formidable or authoritative: 
declined no contest, or controversy, however difficult or 
delicate. 

If he has occasionally descended to verbal criticism, or 
to the discussion of questions comparatively frivolous; it 
has been, because he could not meet his adversary on more 
elevated ground; because his rank and authority in the Re- 
public of letters, gave a factitious importance to his dicta 
and decisions; or because his dicta and decisions, disparage 
the FAME of bards, whose fame, every living admirer of 
poetry, is inviolably bound to vindicate, and whose wrongs 
he has sworn by " nature and nature's God," to avenge. 

In an age like this, and in this country, in the composi- 
tion of Philosophical Essays; to extend indulgence, grant 
mercy, or even to give quarter, to what the Author con- 



viii PREFACE. 

scientiously believes to be ERROR, is base; to ask for 
indulgence, mercy or even quarter, is pusillanimous; to in- 
dulge a hope, or harbour an expectation, that he can claim 
or obtain any thing but JUSTICE, betrays egregious ig- 
norance and weakness. 

Candid and intelligent readers may be disposed to con- 
strue the precipitancy and unpreparedness, with which the 
contents of this volume have been committed to the press, 
as a sort of apology, not for errors in reasoning, (such 
errors are inexpiable,) but for occasional looseness, infeli- 
city, or inaccuracy of expression. 

But the Author does not urge, much less does he rely 
on, any apology of this sort; even for faultiness or negli- 
gence of expression. 

The reader has unquestionably a right to say to the 
Author, 

" If you were unprepared, why did you publish? your 
exigencies and unpreparedness, are no concern of mine. 
The book which I have purchased, and its merits and 
demerits, are all about you, respecting which I feel any 
interest." 

Agreed: 

But although in cases of this sort, apologies are inad- 
missible, and in fact do nothing, or do mischief: The pro- 
priety of polite and candid explanation, will not be ques- 
tioned. 

Where an author writes in a style, in any respect pecu- 
liar, he certainly has a right to explain the causes, or mo- 
tives of such peculiarity. 



PREFACE. iX 

Of the relevancy or irrelevancy of the reasons he may 
assign, as well as of the appropriateness or inappropriate- 
ness of the style which he may adopt, the reader has an 
unquestioned right to judge. 

But the author has also the right, which in the introduc- 
tion he is about to exercise, and it is but doing justice to 
himself, (in other words, he owes it to himself,) to state, fairly 
and fully, his reasons for adopting whatever may be, or 
may seem to be, peculiar, in the style, manner, or matter of 
the following Essays. 

A man surely has duties to himself, as well as to others: 
justice is due to himself, precisely for the same reasons, that 
it is due to others. 

Those very courteous and self-denying persons who 
profess to think only of others, are in fact very generally 
the persons, who are most prone to think only of, and feel 
only for, themselves. 



INTRODUCTION 



IN examining and controverting the opinions of cele- 
brated authors, true dignity and independence of mind, 
call for a tone of feeling, which it is less difficult to con- 
ceive than to describe, and far less difficult to describe, 
than to adopt and maintain. 

To treat with levity or irreverence the buried bene- 
factors of mankind, the disembodied and immortal spirits, 
the tutelary and beneficent minds, to whose genius, phi- 
lanthropy, and wisdom, we " owe a debt immense of 
endless gratitude:" 

To treat with levity or irreverence, the departed lumi- 
naries of the world; to utter their very names without ho- 
mage; to survey the sculptured symbols of their mortality, 
without holy awe, and pious affection, betrays not only an 
inglorious and grovelling, but a mean and malignant spirit. 

Their very names are hallowed, their sepulchres are 
inviolable! — 

" Even in their ashes live their wonted fires." 

" Vile," most vile — 

" Is the vengeance on the ashes cold," 

and " base," most base, is the envy, 

" That harks at sleeping fame." 

To the words and to the actions of the illustrious dead, 
we are consciously indebted for whatever gives the age in 
which we live a claim to superiority^ and the state of so- 

b 



XH INTRODUCTION. 

ciety in which we are born, a title to preference: For 
whatever exalts our condition above that of our progeni- 
tors or contemporaries: for whatever endears or ennobles 
our existence: for whatever best asserts, or most worthily 
supports the dignity of human nature: for whatever enables 
man to maintain dominion in the world we inhabit. 

But truth must not be sacrificed to admiration; justice 
to gratitude; nor duty to affection. 

Rational beings, because they are rational, must " ad- 
mire with knowledge." 

Reverence for the memory of the illustrious dead, must 
not degenerate into idolatry; gratitude for their services 
into blindness to their errors; or veneration for their vir- 
tues, into an oblivion of the imperfection and corruption of 
fallible and fallen man. 

Truth alone has a claim to our unqualified acquiescence, 
and the God of truth only, is entitled to our adoration. 

It is only by detecting and exposing error, and the 
errors into which the greatest and the best of mortals have 
been betrayed, (because their errors are most likely to be 
authoritative and seductive,) that we can advance in that 
progressive improvement, in which man, " in sight of mor- 
tal and immortal powers," is destined " to run 

" The great career of JUSTICE." 

The intellectual and moral improvement of mankind, is 
the most precious of all sublunary things: This improve- 
ment can be advanced only: Advanced! This improvement 
essentially consists, in the detection of received errors; in 
the discovery and development of truths previously un- 
known to the most exalted and enlightened of our proge- 
nitors; or, in the wiser and more beneficial application of 
the truths, which they have immortalized their names by 
discovering and perpetuating. 



INTRODUCTION. XIII 

If we conceive our ancestors, at any previous stage of 
intellectual improvement, to have shut the book of inquiry, 
and adopted with blind admiration and unreasoning rever- 
ence, the opinions of the wisest and best of mortals, who 
had lived before them: From that era! 

Human reason in "dim eclipse," would have " shed dis- 
astrous twilight," not " o'er half," but o'er all the na- 
tions: 

It is, as if we conceive the sun to set, to rise no more, 
and that we were condemned henceforth, to grope our way, 
through the " dim spot," then dim indeed! " which men 
call earth," by artificial light, and ripen its fruits by culi- 
nary fire. 

" Like bubbles on the sea of matter born," " we rise, 
we break, and" (the best and greatest, as well as the worst 
and least of mortals,) " to that sea return." 

The genius and the wisdom of our progenitors, resem- 
ble the beacons that guide the mariner to the haven of 
safety, or the buoys that warn him to shun the devouring 
quicksand, and the latent rock. 

But truth, alone, like orbs of heaven, sheds its inextin- 
guishable and blessed light o'er the surface, and governs the 
flux and reflux of that trackless, fathomless, and shoreless 
sea; imparts polarity to the magnet, salubrity to the at- 
mosphere, and transibility to the ocean; cheers the despond- 
ence, revives the hope, and tempers the fortitude of the 
mariner, amidst every casuality of fortune, and every vi- 
cissitude of the winds and waves: under the storm of ad- 
versity, the night of ignorance, and the eclipse of super- 
stition. 

To the intellectual, and consequently to the moral im- 
provement of mankind, we are one and all, each according 
to his place, capacity, cultivation, and opportunities, bound 
to contribute. 

This is a debt which no individual can discharge for 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

another, because it is due from each to all: which can 
never be overpaid, because the quota of contribution in- 
creases with the ability of the contributor; the payment of 
which can never be burdensome, because in discharging it, 
the individual performs his most important duties, personal 
as well as social; most truly consults his interest in time, 
and through eternity; most certainly secures happiness here 
and hereafter; most successfully asserts his claim to glory, 
present and posthumous. 

Man and woman, who thus act their parts, and perform 
their duties, may defy, calmly defy! the united hostility of 
earth, and death, and hell, to invalidate their titles to a 
place amongst the benefactors of their species. 

Science has been often likened to a hill: The allegory 
is in many respects, appropriate and happy. Gifted and 
ruling minds, in every succeeding generation, ought to 
ascend a step higher along that steep ascent, on whose 
sightless summit, things grander and more precious than 
suns and stars, rest their stupendous weight. 

In ascending, the sphere of mental vision widens: truth 
sheds abroad a clearer and more unclouded light. He 
therefore, who occupies a higher station may see farther, 
with a feebler, and more distinctly, with a coarser vision, 
than those who occupy inferior stations. 

A more enlarged horizon implies not a keener, or a 
clearer sight, but a more elevated position. 

To the adventurous spirit, to the noble enterprise, to 
the indefatigable industry and perseverance of our ances- 
tors, in ascending this " holy hill;" we are indebted for that 
very superiority of position, which enables us to compre- 
hend an ampler and more diversified intellectual prospect. 

In earnestly observing, and profoundly meditating, com- 
paring and connecting the new objects that successively 
arrest attention, or former and even familiar objects, which 
are more distinctly unveiled; in detecting and exposing the 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

ocular deceptions, into which those who stood below us 
have been betrayed, not by weakness or obliquity of vision, 
but by faintness of intellectual light, or the less extended 
range of their sensible horizon; we act our independent 
parts most worthily and wisely, as intelligent and social 
beings: We testify in a manner the most acceptable to our 
Creator, and beneficial to our fellow-creatures, our rever- 
ence and gratitude to those who have gone before us. 

The influence of these cherished sentiments and ma- 
tured convictions, will, the Author trusts, be discernible in 
the far greater part of this volume: he prays the liber- 
al and intelligent reader, to ascribe whatever is not writ- 
ten in this spirit, to the peculiar antipathies, and partialities, 
by which the judgment and the feelings of every human 
being, are more or less biassed. 

There is another point, in relation to which, (although it 
be comparatively unimportant,) the Author thinks it will be 
proper to offer an explanation, somewhat more copious and 
detailed. 

He is aware that the style of the following Essays is 
more rhetorical, than is usual in philosophical disquisitions. 

This peculiarity is partly intentional, and partly invo- 
luntary. These Essays, although not he hopes without 
claims to the attention of philosophical readers, are espe- 
cially addressed to a numerous and most interesting class 
of readers, at a stage of intellectual improvement, and a 
time of life, when the faculty or habit of THINKING ac- 
curately and deeply, is little and rarely cultivated; when 
the practical results to which philosophical speculations 
lead, are but superficially examined, or partially and ca- 
sually unveiled. 

To attract and fix the attention of such readers, fami- 
liar, striking and copious illustrations, conveyed in a style 
in some degree vivid and embellished, are not admissible 
merely, but confessedly necessary. 



XVI INTRODUCTION. 

The writer, however, is fully aware that such illustra- 
tions and embellishment are admissible, and can be accep- 
table, or even tolerable, to good taste; not so far merely as 
may consist with the analysis and development, but so far 
as they are subservient to the accurate analysis, and per- 
spicuous development, of elementary principles. 

To sacrifice profoundness of thought, or perspicuity of 
elucidation, in order to render philosophical inquiries ac- 
ceptable, attractive and popular; would be as if an ar- 
mourer should enhance the costliness, or embellish the 
shape of military weapons, in a mode that impaired their 
due weight, temper, solidity, or sharpness. 

It is generally admitted, it is gratefully acknowledged 
by every liberal and enlightened mind, that Dugald Stuart, 
has done more to recommend the philosophy of the human 
mind to general attention, than any of his predecessors and 
contemporaries; by the elegance of his style, and by the 
copiousness, felicity, and beauty of his illustrations. 

But the work which its accomplished author, with an 
almost culpable excess of modesty, has entitled " Observa- 
tions on Zoonomya*," presents, perhaps, the most striking 

* Greatly as the writer admires the " Observations on Zoonomya," 
he cannot forbear to express his astonishment, that the dogma of gene- 
ral ideas, should have found temporary refuge, from the oblivion into 
which it was falling, in the ingenuity of so profound a thinker, and so 
accomplished a writer. 

This is one of those intellectual anomalies, which would scarcely 
have been credible on any authority, less direct and explicit than that 
of the author himself. 

The fate of the " Observations" has been somewhat singular: When 
error, however imposing and popular, is thoroughly refuted and ex- 
posed; the refutation descends to oblivion along with, or. soon after, the 
refuted error. 

But if these Observations are surrendered to oblivion, they are glo- 
riously entombed: They are buried in the ruins of one of the most 
splendid and seemingly stable structures of theoretical ingenuity. 



INTRODUCTION. XVII 

and satisfactory evidence, hitherto offered to the world; 
how successfully the driest and most recondite truths of 
philosophy, may be recommended to the attention of un- 
philosophical readers, by rhetorical embellishment and the 
graces of diction. 

Whether we regard the clearness, closeness and seve- 
rity of its reasoning; the elegance of its style, or, the truly 
Attic urbanity with which the errors of Darwin are de- 
tected and refuted, this work may be held up as a model 
of controversial logic. 

With the exception, perhaps, of Adam Smith's " Essay 
(unfinished as it is,) on the Imitative Arts," Barclay's 
" Theory of Vision," and the article in the Edinburgh 
Review, in which Allison's " Essay on Taste" is examined; 
there is not to be found in our language, a finer specimen of 
analysis, than the chapter " On Madness" in the " Obser- 
vations on Zoonomya." 

But this subject presents itself to the reflecting mind 
in another and far more interesting light. 

We live at an era portentous and eventful, beyond 
parallel in the records of authentic history. 



In removing the hypothetical rubbish with which Darwin had en- 
cumbered the field of philosophical speculation, his accomplished an- 
tagonist has, we may hope, prepared an ample area for the profound 
and original speculations, with which he will himself favour the world. 

He has acted in this instance, like a sagacious and skilful en- 
gineer, who perceiving that his adversary occupies an advantageous 
station, storms and demolishes his fortress, in order that he may plant 
his own artillery, on the ground from which he dislodges him. 

The glory he has acquired in demolishing one of the fortresses of 
error, is but an earnest of the trophies that await him, when he opens 
his battery under the banners of truth: A Successful siege is an appro- 
priate prelude to a glorious victory. 



XV111 INTRODUCTION. 

The Demon of despotism, and the Demon of innovation, 

" Like two black clouds, with heaven's artillery fraught, 
" Have join'd their dark encounter in mid air." 

" Terra tremit." Nations feel the shock. 

" Fug-ere ferae, et mortalia corda 
" Per g-entes, humilis stravit pavor." 

But, blessed be God! the beneficent spirit of moral im- 
provement and reform, has descended from heaven, " with 
healing under his wings;" silently walks the earth like a 
viewless seraph, and is commissioned, we trust, by " Our 
Father who is in heaven," to " blow the signal," not to 
"join," but to suspend that " dark encounter;" remand 
these demons " thither whence they fled;" and 

" Pleased the Almighty's mandates to perform, 

to 

" Ride in the whirlwind, and direct the storm." 

At this portentous and eventful era, the gradual aboli- 
tion of whatever is barbarous or noxious in established in- 
stitutions, and the dissipation of the ignorance in which 
whatever is barbarous and noxious originated, are more 
immediately promoted and certainly effected, by extend- 
ing the knowledge and facilitating the useful application 
of truths previously known, than by the discovery of new 
truths. 

Banks of deposit, although they may contain a much 
greater quantity of treasure, are less useful than banks of 
circulation. 

The " shallow stream that runs dimpling all the 
way," through meadows and vales, may contribute more 
to fertilize the soil and nourish vegetation, than the deep 
and extended lake, in whose " unfathomed caves, many a 
gem of purest ray serene," lies buried. 



INTRODUCTION. XIX 

Authors who adopt a style somewhat more vivid and em- 
bellished than is usual in philosophical disquisition, with a 
view to extend the circulation of useful knowledge; and who 
by adopting this style do awaken the curiosity, arrest and 
sustain the attention of many readers, who would have shut, 
or averted the " mind's eye" to the cold and colourless 
light of abstract truth ; if they are not entitled to approba- 
tion, have surely a claim to indulgence. 

Even the caution and reserve which such authors mani- 
fest in the development and illustration of fundamental 
truths, may be necessary to promote the circulation of 
knowledge, to enlighten and liberalize public opinion: May 
conspire, with other causes, to enlist common-sense, popu- 
larity, and even fashion, under the everlasting banner which 
the press has unfurled: To allure many minds, (that would 
otherwise remain neutral, or hostile to the cause of justice,) 
into the ranks of the silently-moving, ever-active, constant- 
ly-increasing, and ultimately irresistible host, which pro- 
gressive civilization, has arrayed on the side of political 
and moral reform. 

Philosophical truth, maybe innocently beheld in its na- 
tive nakedness and theoretical abstraction, in solitary con- 
templation, or in the confidential converse of congenial 
minds: As water preserves its transparency and purity in a 
lake or reservoir, and glides in a limpid current through the 
cultured garden or the flowery vale: But philosophical 
truths, (even the truths most important to the well-being of 
society,) must be more or less adulterated by popular pre- 
judice, when they begin to circulate; as the same element, 
is impeded by the rocks, and contracts impurity from the 
channel, over which it flows. 

The substance of the massy ingot is unalloyed, but the 
admixture of a baser metal, makes a part of the exchange- 
able value of circulating coin. 



XX INTRODUCTION. 

How far considerations of this sort ought to soften the 
severity of philosophical criticism, in exposing whatever 
may be inappropriate, or offensive to good taste in the 
style; or in denouncing, whatever may be erroneous or de- 
ficient in the reasoning of such authors, are questions, in 
relation to which, 

" Satius estsilere, quam parcius dicere." 

It is unquestionably not the right merely, but the duty 
of supreme and appellate tribunals of criticism, to detect 
and expose the errors that may escape the attention, elude 
the vigilance, or baffle the penetration of subordinate tribu- 
nals: to reverse the erroneous or iniquitous decisions, 
which, (from ignorance, prejudice, or corruption,) they may 
have pronounced. 

It is their high and holy office, not only to purify the 
fountains from which knowledge issues, but to detect what- 
ever may contaminate its streams in the remotest, subtilest 9 
and most secret channels along which they flow, or strata 
through which they percolate. 

It is their godlike office, not only to expel or neutralize 
whatever has a tendency to taint, but to evolve inces- 
santly those latent, elementary, uncombined, and vital 
truths, that impart salubrity and genial influence to the at- 
mosphere of public opinion. 

From these high tribunals, in the exercise of their 
" dread vicegerency," truth ought to pronounce her stern 
award: Taste ought to shed its •* selectest influence." 

" Judex damnatur, si nocens absolvitor." 
" Fiat JUSTITIA," 

are their characteristic and monitory mottoes, not less mo- 
nitory, as regards the duties of the judge, than as regards 
the rights of the claimant for literary justice. 



INTRODUCTION. XXI 

The Author, meanwhile, deems it fair and even pru- 
dent to acknowledge, that the peculiarity of style, to which 
he now adverts, is partly involuntary. 

Occupied, as his leisure has been, during twelve years, 
in imparting knowledge !o immature and uninformed minds, 
through the medium principally of oral lectures, and du- 
ring the last six years, in delivering specimens of oratory 
from the Rostrum; he has been necessarily led to consider 
more the effect, which, what he composed in the closet, 
would produce onthe/ee/mgs of the spectator and auditor, 
than on the mind of the solitary reader. 

He has been led to cultivate more anxiously, the mode 
of expression and illustration, that seemed best adapted to 
rivet the attention, interest the feelings, and amuse the ima- 
ginations of a miscellaneous audience; than the style which 
best deserves the approbation of intelligent readers and 
accomplished critics. 

He cannot, therefore but fear, that the peculiarity of 
his style will depreciate the value of his literary labours in 
the estimation of such readers and critics, and make an im- 
pression inauspicious to his usefulness and reputation as an 
author. 

But he indulges a hope, and he will not, he trusts, ex- 
pose himself to the charge of unpardonable presumption, 
in venturing to promise; that, if the reception of this volume 
be not so discouraging, as to extinguish in his bosom all hope 
of future success as a philosophical writer; the influence of 
this habit will be less and less offensively discernible, in 
what he may hereafter offer to the public. 

He is encouraged to indulge this hope, even by the very 
infirmity, from which this habit derives its inveteracy; his 
love of literary fame, and popular applause. 

In whatever he may hereafter revise or compose, he 
hopes to be permitted to direct his attention more earnestly, 
and with far other earnestness and far nobler ambition; to 



XXII INTRODUCTION. 

the impression which what he is writing, will make; not on 
the feelings, of a crowd of fugitive, ever shifting, and miscel- 
laneous auditors, but on the minds of a numerous and ex- 
tending circle of intelligent readers. 

He will and does indulge this delightful day-dream, even 
if in the sequel, " disappointment should smile," (sigh ra- 
ther,) " at Hope's career." 

He will and does indulge the delightful day-dream, (al- 
though he has long felt that " sickness of the heart, winch 
arises from hope deferred,") that he will be permitted to 
court distinction and contend for glory, on an ampler and 
grander field of usefulness; and that on another theatre, and 
under better auspices, the Rostrum itself, will present an 
ampler and grander field of glory and of good. 

The author begs leave to add, that the subject of the 
third essay ("The modern abuse of moral Fiction,") pre- 
sents a subject so peculiarly susceptible of rhetorical em- 
bellishment; so admirably adapted to the purposes of im- 
passioned declamation, that no apology is offered for the 
style in w r hich it is w r ritten. 

He can truly say, that every sentence of this essay 
came, (gushed he had almost said!) from his heart; and eve- 
ry sentence, will, he hopes, find its way to the hearts and 
minds of that most interesting class of readers to whom it is 
addressed. 

Happy, to the full extent of his wishes, if he has suc- 
ceeded in exposing the abuse of a species of composition, of 
all others, the most attractive and popular: by which, ac- 
cording to its use or abuse, incalculable good or evil may 
be done: a species of composition, which an incarnate se- 
raph would select and employ to execute the most benefi- 
cent and holy, and an incarnate demon, to perpetrate the 
most execrable and diabolical purposes: a species of com- 
position which although of modern origin, and at once the 
"glory and the shame," of modern literature, has never yet 



INTRODUCTION. XX111 

been philosophically analyzed and illustrated by any mo- 
dern writer: a species of composition, in fine, whose abuse 
in a countless variety of forms, metrical and immetrical, is 
at this moment exerting, and has, during every moment of the 
last half century, exerted, a more decisive influence on the 
characters of the young and inexperienced, and of the youth 
of that sex more especially, on whose characters and con- 
duct, as daughters, sweethearts, wives and mothers, the hap- 
piness of both sexes principally depends; than all the other 
kinds of literature together. 

P. S. The author requests, that the address to the 
" Candid Reader," (which is subjoined to the Supplemen- 
tary Narrative,) may be regarded as a part of the " Intro- 
duction." 



ESSAYS, #c. 



ESSAY I. 

ON THE CARDINAL IMPORTANCE OF THE STUDY OF MATHE- 
MATICAL SCIENCE, AS A BRANCH OF LIBERAL EDUCATION. 
AND AS CONNECTED WITH THE ATTAINMENT OF SUPERIOR 
ABILITY AND SKILL, IN THE EXERCISE OF ORATORY. 

The trains of ideas that pervade the human mind, arc- 
reducible to three classes: trains connected by reasoning, 
trains connected by memory, and trains connected by ima- 
gination. The author is perfectly aware, that these trains 
are often intermixed; and that in the trains that fall under 
each of these heads; reason, memory, and imagination, 
predominate merely. He is aware too, that a distribution, 
modelled with greater logical accuracy, might have been 
proposed: but it is sufficiently accurate to answer the pur- 
poses of this essay. 

Reasoning is of three sorts: — demonstrative, certain, 
and probable. 



^10 On the Study of 

Reasoning is demonstrative, where the conclusion is es- 
tablished, with such clearness and force of evidence, as to 
banish from the minds of all who comprehend it, the sha- 
dow or possibility of doubt, and to render a different or a 
contrary conclusion, incredible and even inconceivable, and 
impossible. 

Reasoning is certain, when the conclusion which the 
reasoner endeavours to establish, is unhesitatingly embraced 
and confidently acted on, by a vast majority of the intelli- 
gent persons who comprehend the evidence, although a 
different and even a contrary conclusion, may be conceived 
without incongruity, and expressed without contradiction, 
and is therefore possible, and being possible, is within the 
immense range, although on the very verge of credibility. 

Reasoning is probable, when the conclusion which the 
reasoner labours to establish, exhibits greater verisimilitude 
than any other, in the judgment of those who are best quali- 
fied to comprehend the subject to which the conclusion re- 
lates: and it is more or less verisimilar, according to the con- 
fidence or hesitation with which persons thus qualified, em- 
brace it, although other and perhaps opposite conclusions 
may be conscientiously embraced, by persons of unques- 
tioned intelligence and unsuspected veracity, and supported 
by arguments which it demands the utmost ingenuity and 
the most extensive information, to refute. 

Demonstrative reasoning, has its foundation in definitions 
that suggest ideas perfectly precise, and are re-excited iden- 
tically by the terms of the definition, in the mind of every 
human being who possesses a competent faculty of think- 



Mathematical Science, 1 1 

ing, resolves itself at every advancing step, (from the sim- 
plest and most obvious, to the most complicated and stu- 
pendous truths,) into axioms or self-evident propositions, 
in other words, resolves itself into propositions, nothing 
contrary to or different from which, can be conceived. 
Demonstrative reasoning is exclusively conversant with re- 
lations subsisting amongst ideas, originally suggested doubt- 
less by impressions made by external objects on the organs 
of sense, but made at so early a stage of human existence 
and so universally, that they may be regarded as constitut- 
ing a part of the essential nature, of the necessary furniture, 
of human thought. 

Certain and probable reasoning have a common founda- 
tion in the relation of cause and effect, and differ merely 
in degree, as will afterwards be shown. Both, however, 
differ in several important respects, speculative as well as 
practical, from demonstrative reasoning, the farther consi- 
deration of which will occupy the remainder of this essay. 

Demonstrative reasoning has relation exclusively to 
quantity, and constitutes what is denominated mathematical 
science. Being deduced from definitions that suggest to 
every mind combinations of ideas perfectly invariable,, 
(provided the terms are distinctly understood,) no one com- 
bination is ever confounded with another, how numerous 
soever the points of resemblance or coincidence may be. 

The minutest difference is as plainly distinguishable, 
as the most striking contrariety. An equilateral triangle is 
as readily distinguished from, and as little liable to be, con- 
founded with an isosceles, as with a scalene triangle: — 



1% On the Study of 

such reasoning too, resolvable at every step into self-evi- 
dent propositions, is necessarily, a portion of immutable 
truth. 

On this foundation, rest the inviolable and incommuni- 
cable privileges of mathematical science. Mathematical 
science is the only kind of human knowledge which may be 
regarded as a portion of divine truth. It is conceivable, that 
every existing system or speculation, physical, metaphy- 
sical, and moral, (however imposing its pretensions, nu- 
merous and enlightened its disciples, and strong its veri- 
similitude,) may be hereafter refuted, and give place to 
more congruous explanations of the phenomena of ma- 
terial and intellectual nature, nearer approximations to the 
truth of things: but it is inconceivable and impossible, that 
the time will ever arrive, ever did, or can exist, when any 
mathematical theorem, (the Pythagorean for instance,) will 
be, has been, or can be refuted. 

Were every order of created intelligences, from the most 
glorious seraphim and cherubim, down to the humblest 
human intellect capable of comprehending its evidence, 
contemplating this theorem at the same moment, it is in- 
conceivable that it should not appear in the same light, to 
every individual mind, in this stupendous congregation of 
intelligent beings. 

Respecting mathematical truth, the ideas of Adam, 
before the fall, must have corresponded with those of the 
celestial visitants of Paradise, and with those also of the 
most corrupted and irreclaimable of his descendants. Even 
in the infernal regions, where the glorious faculties of one 



Mathematical Science. 13 

of the highest orders of created intelligences, are in the 
utmost possible degree perverted and maligned, where 
God is detested, evil pursued as good, and truth abhor- 
red, mathematical truth sheds its " increate" and irrefrangi- 
ble light, on the minds of demons and damned spirits, as 
clearly, as on the orignally less, but now perhaps more glori- 
ous faculties, of Newton or of Pascal. We may even dare 
to believe, that in regard to every theorem supported by 
mathematical demonstration, science and omniscience co- 
incide; that the evidence is beheld in the same light, by the 
Almighty mind, by the Creator himself, and by the humblest 
and most fallible of his intelligent creatures. 

Mathematical science may be therefore viewed, as a 
portion of divine truth, revealed not by inspiration but by 
intuition. 

Physical science, founded on the relations which exter- 
nal objects bear to each other, (as those relations are mani- 
fested to our minds through our senses,) is possibly in its 
essence, relative and mutable. 

In the innumerable orbs that revolve though the immen- 
sity of space, which the attributes of God, the discoveries 
and the analogies of science, warrant us in believing to be 
habitable, and inhabited probably by beings ascending in 
capacity and intelligence, immeasurably above the utmost 
height that can ever be reached by man; it is not impossible, 
nor even improbable, that the mutual action and influence ot 
material objects, as it is manifested to their intelligent inha- 
bitants by the exercise of their senses, varies with their or- 
ganization; with the number, perfection, and peculiar 



14 On the Study of 

modification of their material organs, and with the con- 
sequent vigour, variety, compass, and energy of their 
intellectual powers. 

The principles of moral science, so far as they incul- 
cate the cardinal duties of conforming moral action to 
the revealed will of God, of pursuing, what according 
to the laws of nature in every quarter of the universe 
is intrinsically good, and avoiding, what according to the 
same laws, is intrinsically evil, are questionless immutable, 
and extend their imperial sway throughout the intellectual 
universe: — but in the application and practice of these 
principles, even moral science, (so far as it depends on 
the pleasurable and painful, the noxious or salutary effects, 
which material objects produce on the external and internal 
organs of conscious beings, and on the social relations, 
that derive their origin from the varieties of this influence 
and action,) necessarily varies with their organization. 

The physical and moral science of organized intelligent 
beings, endowed with six, or six hundred senses, or endow- 
ed only with our senses, but possessing these in a much 
higher degree of perfection; capable for instance, of seeing 
an object at the distance of a million of leagues, as dis- 
tinctly as we see an object removed a few inches from our 
eyes; and of discerning at the same time, objects so minute 
as to escape human vision, aided by the finest microscope, 
and to be able to exercise or suspend the exercise of 
either power at will; not only of existing in a temperature 
indefinitely above, or indefinitely below that which is es- 
sential to human existence in health and vigour; but capa- 



Mathematical Science. 1 5 

ble of existing also, under physical circumstances, to man 
unknown and unknowable, must differ essentially from the 
science to which we attach these appellations. 

But throughout the universe, mathematical science must 
be one and the same. 

Amidst the infinite diversities of organization, the infi- 
nite variety both in gradation and kind of mental capacity, 
and the consequently mutable and relative nature, of what- 
ever falls under the denominations of (what we stile) phy- 
sical and moral science, mathematical truth preserves an 
essential unity and identity, not in the evidence, merely, 
but in the practical application of its principles. 

Concerning the nature and effects of gravitation, elec- 
tricity, and chymical affinity, and even concerning the very 
existence of such agents, (as we conceive of their existence,) 
a philosophical inhabitant of the planet Saturn, may hold 
opinions irreconcilably adverse to those of Newton, Frank- 
lin, and Lavoizier: but we cannot conceive it possible, that 
they should differ in their mode of conceiving a mathemati- 
cal proposition 

Mathematical truth may therefore be regarded as co-es- 
sential and co-extensive with the existence of intellect, in 
every possible variety of mode and degree, in which it can 
exist, or be conceived to exist. The facility with which in- 
telligent beings are capable of comprehending, and the ex- 
tent to which they are capable of investigating mathemati- 
cal science, is probably no inaccurate criterion of their ori- 
ginal rank in the scale of intelligence: and the advances 
which any order of intelligent beings have made in mathe- 



16 On the Study of 

matical science, may be assumed as a standard, for ascer- 
taining the stage at which they have arrived, in their pro* 
gress on the ever-extending field of intellectual improve* 
ment. 

The solitary pre-eminence of mathematical science, 
may be inferred also, from the sublimity and grandeur of 
the objects with which it is conversant, and to which it is 
applicable; from the stupendous magnitude of the problems, 
which, by the application of its principles, and by their 
application only, human reason is able to solve. The ap- 
plication of every other branch of human knowledge, is 
limited to the planet we inhabit, and to its inhabitants: but 
by the application of mathematical truths, human reason 
has described the orbits, ascertained the velocity, calcula- 
ted the eclipses, predicted the future phases, and even 
guaged the dimensions of the heavenly bodies. 

The principles of mathematical science are applicable 
to every possible combination of matter and motion, through- 
out the universe. 

Mathematical truth, too, is the only kind of human 
knowledge that exercises exclusively the highest faculty of 
the mind, the understanding, and affords no scope for ima- 
gination and passion, at least in the ordinary sense of these 
terms: as compounded of imagery derived from the im- 
pressions made on the senses by external objects, and con- 
sisting in the tumultuous movements with which the eager 
and contentious pursuit of sensible pleasures and pains, 
agitate the mind. Thus the man who devotes his talents 
and leisure to the study of mathematical science, purifies 



Mathematical Science* 17 

and exalts his intellectual nature, becomes less sensible to 
the irritations of sense, and the charms of sensual pleasure, 
and less accessible to the perturbations of passion, " holds 
converse with heavenly habitants, and may even be said 
to grow familiar day by day with God's conceptions, act 
upon God's plan, and form to God's, the relish of his soul." 

Is it not then useless to inquire, would it not be 
almost impious to doubt, whether the study of mathematical 
science ought, or ought not to constitute an essential part 
of every course of liberal education? 

It is by the study of this sublime science, that juvenile 
intellect first plumes its feathers, and lets grow its wings,'^ 
" rises into regions mild of calm and serene air," " above 
the smoke and din of the dim spot, which men call earth!" 

These observations have it is hoped, prepared and 
disposed the intelligent reader, to enter with due interest, 
on the consideration of the question, " in what way, does 
the study of mathematical science contribute to the attain- 
ment of oratorical skill?" 

Directly it cannot produce this effect: it is exclusive- 
ly conversant with truths, in the development of which, 
so far as consists in the exercise of a rich but disciplin- 
ed imagination, of a pure yet refined taste, in the ex- 
citement of intense yet chastened passion, and in the ex- 
quisite embellishment of diction, oratory, in its technical 
and popular acceptation's inadmissible. The solution of this 
question is involved in that of another, far more important 
and extensive in its consequences; " in what way does the 
study of mathematical science contribute to invigorate and 
discipline the youthful mind?" 



1 8 On the Study of 

The author proposes to enter at some length into the dis- 
cussion of this question, and although the remarks he pro- 
poses to offer, will be applicable to various other subjects, 
and will, he trusts, reflect some light on the methods and 
objects of liberal education, they will have a peculiar 1 bear- 
ing on oratory. 

The study of mathematical science then ought, he con- 
ceives, to enter extensively into every course of liberal edu- 
cation, because it has a strong and peculiar tendency to 
exercise the governing faculty of the mind, the understand- 
ing; because it communicates, and because from this source 
only we can derive, an accurate knowledge of immutable 
truths, susceptible of practical applications infinitely diver- 
sified, and imparting to every subject to which they are 
applied, all the distinctness and precision of thought, which 
the human mind is capable of reaching; and because the 
study of mathematical science has a stronger tendency to 
establish habits of composure, recollectedness, dispassion- 
ate inquiry, intense reflection, and patient investigation, 
than any other study that can engage the attention of 
youth. 

In the study of mathematical science, the understanding 
is exercised intensely and exclusively: we deduce, by a 
process purely logical, from precise definitions, a series of 
theorems and problems growing at every step, more complex 
in the truths which they involve, and in those to which 
they lead; yet, resolving themselves at every step into 
axioms, or into propositions previously demonstrated, in 
other words, into propositions that resolve themselves into 
axioms. 



Mathematical Scienet. IS 

The understanding is as naturally and necessarily in- 
vigorated by a study of this sort, as our arm, or any other 
limb, by the gymnastic exercises that call into frequent and 
vigorous action, the muscles that actuate it; or, any organ 
of sense by frequent and concentrated attention to the 
class of sensible objects, to the perception of which it is 
exclusively adapted. 

In the study of mathematical science, 

" We wake all to reason, let no passion stir, 
" Repress imagination's airy wing, 
" Call home every vagrant thought;" 

we ascend into those supernal regions of pure intelligence, 
where science, through an over-widening mental horizon 
sheds its " long levelled rule of white and shining light," 
dimmed by no doubt, refracted by no prejudice, eclipsed 
by no perverse habit. 

But in the study of mathematical science, the mind is 
not invigorated by the clear comprehension and passive 
reception of truths previously demonstrated, merely; it is 
stimulated to exert its inventive powers to discover less 
complex and circuitous modes of demonstrating proposi- 
tions previously established; to detect new and unperciev- 
ed links in the indissoluble and interminable chain of ma- 
thematical truth: or to introduce more luminous methods of 
investigation, or a more powerful and compendious calculus: 
which, although it adds nothing to the strength of the under- 
standing (and even exercises it less strenuously, than the 
calculus previously in use,) enables the humblest intellect 
to solve problems with ease, the solution of which formerly 



20 On the Study of 

tasked the power and patience of the most accomplished 
mathematician: Like a compound engine which by substi- 
tuting material force, in place of muscular strength, enables 
a child or a valetudinarian, to lift a weight, or overcome 
a resistance, which if even attempted by unassisted strength, 
would dislocate every bone and paralyze every nerve in the 
frame of Hercules or Titan. 

The distinctness and precision, which the practical ap- 
plication of mathematical theorems imparts to our concep- 
tions on every subject, to which they are applied or ap- 
plicable, is too obvious to need illustration. Our ideas re- 
specting all the most important properties of matter, figure, 
"weight, motion, &c. amount to little more than loose con- 
jecture, till they are defined, their degrees measured and 
reduced to calculation, by the application of mathematical 
principles. That external objects differ in form, extent, 
weight, quantity of matter and velocity of motion, may 
be perceived by the senses, but without the knowledge and 
application of mathematical principles, we cannot define 
the varieties of figure, measure extent, velocity, or mo- 
mentum, or ascertain the absolute or comparative quantities 
and degrees, of whatever is directly or indirectly suscepti- 
ble of mensuration. The fancies of a child, scarcely differ 
more in distinctness and precision, from the knowledge of a 
mature mind, than the conceptions of a mathematician, in 
relation to these subjects, from those of one who is ignorant 
of these principles. 

What can have a stronger tendency to inure the youth- . 
ful mind to habits of composure, recollectedness, and dispas- 



Mathematical Science. 21 

sionate inquiry, than the study of a science in which it can- 
not advance a single step without a fixed and concentrated 
attention on relations subsisting amongst ideas; without a 
temporary insensibility to the irritations of sense and obli- 
vion of the impressions which they have formerly made 
upon the mind; without the exclusion of every idea irre- 
levant to the subject we are investigating; without a per- 
fect serenity of soul, an entire exemption for the time from 
the influence of every agitating passion? What can have a 
stronger tendency, to establish habits of deliberate reflec- 
tion, of patient and profound research, than the study of a 
science that allures and accustoms the mind to advance 
from the simplest principles to the most complicated con- 
clusions; exacting at every step the clearest evidence, con- 
necting truths in a chain growing constantly longer and 
more ponderous, but simultaneously imparting strength to 
sustain with ease the enormous and ever increasing weight. 
In the successful prosecution of such a study, the mind as 
it advances, grows " proud of the strong contention of its 
toils, proud to be daring," — encounters a difficulty at every 
step, which must be surmounted before it can advance, 
but when surmounted, becomes an instrument for surmount- 
ing the subsequent difficulties, that task the strength of in- 
tellect, and add to its strength, in the victorious struggle? 

Such are the benefits which ingenuous youth derive from 
the study of mathematical science, under the auspices of an 
accomplished teacher. When we call to mind, too, that this 
study initiates us in the knowledge of truths, in their very 
essence, eternal and divine, surely nothing further can be 



22 On the Study of 

necessary to establish its claim to the highest rank amongst 
the objects of liberal curiosity, and as an essential part, of 
every system of liberal education. 

From these observations it is also, I trust, sufficiently 
clear, that those who aspire to attain eminent oratorical skill, 
will be indirectly but powerfully aided by the study of 
mathematical science, especially when such skill is exerted 
to convince the understanding. 

He, whose mind has been invigorated and disciplined by 
the study of mathematical science, will not in arranging and 
delivering his sentiments on any subject adapted to the 
purpose of oratory, be satisfied to examine it superficially: 
he will almost involuntarily endeavour to ascend as nearly 
as possible to its first principles, and from these deduce his 
reasoning: in selecting arguments he will almost instinc- 
tively prefer the strongest: In his vocabulary plausibility 
can have no meaning, because on his mind, it can have no 
influence: in his judgment probabilities alone will weigh 
as evidence, and he will even attempt to estimate and cal- 
culate probabilities: in the disposition of his arguments he 
will spontaneously array them in the order best adapted, if 
not to display, to exert their intrinsic and collective strength. 

In the style of his oratory, he will aim chiefly at per- 
spicuity and simple elegance: elaborate embellishment, stu- 
died antithesis, loose analogies, a profusion of metaphor, 
and all figures of speech that cloud the medium of intellec- 
tual communication, obscure the " truth of things;" that 
have a tendency to derange the moral order, discolour the 
complexion, to increase or diminish unduly the moral mag- 



Mathematical Science, 23 

nitude and intrinsic weight of the objects of thought, will 
excite in his mind, not contempt merely, but implacable 
disgust. 

The study of mathematical science has a strong tenden- 
cy to imbue the mind with impartiality and candour in es- 
timating the strength of reasoning; to weaken the influ- 
ence of every sort of prejudice; to render the mind less 
accessible to the perturbations of passion, even in delibera- 
ting on a subject peculiarly calculated to excite and in- 
flame passion; to enable the orator to exert an habitual 
recollectedness, a dignified self-possession, a philosophical 
composure of temper, even amidst the turbulence, and 
strife, and rancorous contentions of popular assemblies, 
vested with supreme political power, and debating on mea- 
sures of the most momentous consequence to the com- 
munity. 

The study of mathematical science, has also a peculiar 
tendency to train and prepare the mind, to investigate with 
patient and persevering attention any subject, (how novel, 
complicated and tedious soever) the investigation of which, 
may be necessary to the successful exertion of oratorical 
skill. 

Such and so important are, in my judgment, the advan- 
tages which young men, who aspire to attain eminent and 
efficient skill in oratory, may derive from the study of 
mathematical science. 

But in order to realize these advantages, it is all-im- 
portant that this study be commenced at the proper season, 
carried to its due extent, and pursued in combination with, 



24 On the Study of 

and in subserviency to other intellectual attainments. It 
ought to be the object of every course of education that 
claims or deserve the appellation of liberal, to invigorate 
and accomplish all the active, moral, and intellectual powers 
of human nature. 

The integrity of the mind is mutilated, the beauty of 
character is defaced, the judgment is narrowed and illiber- 
alized, and our estimates of the moral value of different ob- 
jects and pursuits, perverted by an over-anxious cultiva- 
tion of one of its faculties at the expense of the rest. A 
course of education that produce this effect, is essentially 
illiberal: nor is this effect produced more certainly, or to a 
greater extent, than by the premature, excessive, and still 
more, by the exclusive study of mathematical science: and 
although this is an error of rare occurrence any where, and 
particularly rare in this country, it will answer more valua- 
ble purposes than the mere gratification of speculative cu- 
riosity, to explain the cause of this effect. 

To explain this effect satisfactorily, we must review 
again the distinctive and characteristic properties of mathe- 
matical science. 

It is exclusively conversant with relations subsisting, 
not amongst objects or events without, but ideas within the 
mind, discoverable, not by sensation but reflection, by at- 
tention directed, not to external phenomena, but to subjects 
of consciousness: these relations concern quaritity and num- 
ber only, and are widely removed from that class of ideas 
that exercise the imagination, of stimulate appetite or 
passion, essentially disconnected from those sensible plea- 






Mathematical Science. %b 

sures and pains which mankind are generally most eager to 
enjoy or avoid: these relations, from their abstraction and 
continually increasing complexity, can only be detected 
and demonstrated, by an attention so profound, as to suspend 
the exercise of every faculty except the understanding, and 
to concentrate in this investigation all its energy: lastly, it 
is matter of uniform experience, that where an exclusive 
predilection for mathematical science takes possession of 
a vigorous mind, it is cherished with an enthusiasm as un- 
quenchable, ceaseless, and intense, as ever poetry or reli- 
gion inspired. 

From these distinctive properties of mathematical sci- 
ence, we may deduce with almost mathematical certainty, 
and explain with almost mathematical precision, the ten- 
dency of a premature, excessive, and much more, an 
exclusive devotion ©f the mind to this science, to impair, 
and by disuse almost destroy the powers of observation, 
and even to blunt the sensibility of the coporeal organs, to 
external impressions: its tendency not only to fold the wing 
and shut the eye of imagination, but to clip the plumage 
and cut the pectoral muscle of that " frolic wing;" — its 
tendency, thirdly, to obliterate taste, or the sensibility 
to whatever is sublime, beautiful, picturesque, or other- 
wise delightful in the works of art and nature; its tendency, 
fourthly, to enfeeble the power and narrow the range of sym- 
pathy; its tendency, lastly, to produce the seemingly irre- 
concilable infirmities of credulity, and scepticism. 

An exclusive pursuit of mathematical science tends to 
impair, and by disuse, to destroy the powers of observa 



26 On the Study of 

tion. Consisting in relations that subsist amongst ideas with 
which the mind is necessarily furnished at a very early 
stage of human existence, the truth of which is wholly in- 
dependent of observation, experiment, authority, or testi- 
mony, requiring neither the revival of former, nor the ac- 
cession of new impressions, from without, it necessarily 
follows, that an ardent and exclusive fondness for mathe- 
matical investigations, withdraws attention from what is 
passing without, and fixes it on what is passing within the 
mind. The study of mathematical science, pursued exclu- 
sively and with great intensity of thought, for a considera- 
ble length of time, produces all the apparent and some of the 
real effects of blindness, deafness, paralysis, and trance. 

The eye of the mere mathematician is open, and the 
pictures of external objects are optically delineated on his 
retina, but he is insensible to the beauty or deformity, and 
often unconscious of the existence of the picture. The air 
in the vicinity of his auditory nerve vibrates, and the nerve 
vibrates in unison, but he hears not the sound, attends not to 
the impression, nor interprets the meaning it conveys: when 
he calls into action his locomotive muscles, his movements are 
rather automatic than voluntary, for being perfectly inatten- 
tive to the shifting scene without him, he is as unconscious 
of change of place as a somnambulist: his reflections and 
speculations during the day are almost as perfectly discon- 
nected from, and as little influenced by external impres- 
sions, as the dreams of night: his fits of profound reverie 
and absence exhibit all the appearance of trance. 

An enthusiastic devotion to mathematical science, has 
a still more fatal effect on imagination, on two accounts: 



Mathematical Scienqe, 27 

first because the ideas of quantity with which the sci- 
ence is exclusively conversant, are of all our ideas, those 
that least interest the imagination, are those on which 
it is least disposed to dwell, which most rarely recur 
in its fantastic combinations: secondly, the principle of 
necessary connexion and logical deduction, that binds 
together every preceding to every subsequent idea, in the 
trains of thought that pervade the mind of the mere mathe- 
matician, is perfectly opposite in its nature to the variable 
and factitious ties, that connect the day-dreams of imagi. 
nation. 

In the mind of the mere mathematician, these princi- 
ples of mental association find no place: if a group of ideas 
thus associated occurs, it is instantly expelled, not as an 
unwelcome visiter, but as an impertinent intruder. 

Particular modes of thinking, of arranging our ideas, 
when rooted by habit, cherished with enthusiasm and 
exerted exclusively, are in their operation and effects, 
somewhat analogous to our corporeal organs of sense, each 
of which affords us access to a particular class of sensations 
and excludes every other. The mere mathematician taking 
supreme delight in one mode of arranging his ideas, and 
wholly indifferent and unaccustomed to every other, regards 
not with indifference merely, but with disgust and scorn, the 
tasteful but unreal transpositions and combinations of ideas, 
in which imagination most delights* 

To expatiate on the charms of poetry, to read or recite 
exquisite verses, in the presence of a mere mathematician, 
would betray ignorance and ill-manners. We would scarely 



28 On the Study of 

admire either the good sense or the good breeding of one 
who should tantalise a blind man by uttering a laboured 
eulogy on the glory of light, or on the beauty of a rainbow. 

To the mere mathematician the " poet's eye rolling in 
a fine phrensy," (if he chanced to observe it,) would exhibit 
unequivocal and alarming evidence of insanity: the finest 
effusions of poetic inspiration, would afford him no more 
satisfaction, nor exhibit to his mind, any more congruity or 
meaning, than the ravings of insanity, or a sick man's 
dreams. 

With imagination in the mind of the mere mathemati 
cian, taste necessarily perishes, even its elementary feelings, 
from want of excitement or long disuse, are benumbed 
and almost extinguished. 

The sublime, beautiful, grand, and picturesque, so far 
as these and other affecting qualities are connected with 
external phenomena, have no meaning in the vocabulary 
of the mere mathematician, because the impressions from 
which these ideas are copied, the raptures they inspire, 
and the fine associations on which they depend, have never 
been excited or formed in his mind. A capacity to enjoy 
these exquisite qualities, can be nourished only by the con- 
stant exercise of the external senses, the nicest observation 
of material phenomena, and the liveliest sensibility to the 
ever-varying aspect, the ever-shifting attitudes, to all the 
" fair variety of things." 

The terms descriptive of these qualities, if they are 
ever uttered by the mere mathematician, have relation 
only to the science which " is the god of his intellectual 



Mathematical Science, 29 

idolatry:" In his estimation there is nothing sublime but 
stupendous problems; nothing beautiful, but the demonstra- 
tion of an important theorem, more compendious than any 
that had been previously invented. The mere mathematician 
might possibly concur in opinion with Hogarth, respecting 
the line of grace; but he would infallibly regard the para- 
bolic, or elliptic curves as exhibiting that line in a light 
more striking and attractive than the bosom of beauty, 
perceptibly heaving, and perceptibly defined by the modest 
veil that hides it. 

To the mere mathematician nothing is picturesque but 
curious polygons and regular curves; nothing pathetic, but 
a description of the difficulties which the study of the higher 
and more intricate departments of mathematical science, 
present; nothing horrific but the conception of problems 
that baffie and overwhelm human genius. 

"I never," said the immortal M'Claurin, " could dis- 
cover any thing sublime in Milton's Paradise Lost, but 
could never read the queries at the close of Newton's Op- 
tics, without feeling my hair stand on end." 

An exclusive devotion to mathematical science tends 
also to enfeeble the power and narrow the range of sym- 
pathy, and of all the social affections. 

No human being can sympathize vividly, with the plea- 
sures and pains of another, in a situation in which he has 
not only never himself been placed, but never can conceive 
himself to be placed, without anticipating either a state of 
total indifference, or sensations of disgust. I cannot surely 
cordially congratulate my neighbour on the possession or 



30 On the Study of 

participation of a good, or on the exemption or escape 
from an evil, when if I conceive myself placed in his situa- 
tion, and, should neither regard the one as good nor the 
other as evil, but anticipate either absolute indifference or 
sentiments directly adverse to those of " the person princi- 
pally concerned:" Now the mere mathematician is so igno- 
rant of the ways of the world, so insensible to the pleasures 
and pains that make up the happiness and misery of men 
of the world, of men who pursue with ardour the busy and 
tumultuous chase after wealth, popularity, and power, that 
their pursuits rarely arrest his attention and their perturba- 
tions never ruffle a fibre of his heart. 

I do not mean to insinuate that the mere mathematician 
is malignant, envious, jealous, (or in any opprobrious sense 
of that much abused word,) selfish. No human being en- 
joys, or can enjoy, more unruffled equanimity of temper, 
purer innocence of heart, or a more entire exemption from 
every sordid and dissocial, from every vicious or visionary- 
passion: He would not perhaps, like Toby, take the trouble 
to open the window and permit the fly to escape, but he 
would not harm a fly: Indeed if he was poring over a dia- 
gram, a legion of these insects might buzz in his ear, un- 
heard, or light upon his face and fingers unfelt: Whilst 
occupied in solving a problem more complicated and inter- 
esting than usual, a thousand moschetoes might plant their 
tiny but envenomed stings in his flesh and suck his blood 
with impunity. 

The mere mathematician could not be readily induced 
to hazard, much less to immolate his life, for the sake of 



Mathematical Science, 31 

his friend, his family, his country, or his kind; nor would 
it be easy, or perhaps possible, to make him comprehend 
the justice or propriety of such a sacrifice; but no man 
would more reluctantly do the smallest injury to his friend, 
his family, his country, or his kind. 

I do not mean to insinuate, much less to contend, that 
the man who devotes his mind exclusively, and with enthu- 
siasm, to the study of mathematical science, is positively 
unamiable; or, in any degree depraved; but that he is not, 
and cannot be, tenderly sympathetic, intensely benevolent, 
actively, variously, and diffusively beneficent. 

His heart floats in a sort of mediocrity and apathy, 
in an element clear but cold, pure and bright, but colour- 
less, calm and innoxious, but stagnant and insipid. 

Lastly, the mind of the mere mathematician is liable, 
(and to an excess, incredible, probably, to those who have 
not had occasion to observe the effect of an exclusive devo- 
tion to mathematical science, on the understandings of its 
idolaters,) to the opposite and seemingly incompatible in- 
firmities, of credulity and scepticism. 

The intellectual eye of the mere mathematician, inured 
to contemplate only subjects, that are irradicated by the 
solar light of intuition, becomes inexcitable and blind to 
the faint and dubious light of probability, and he thus 
grows sceptical about the truth of opinions, and even facts, 
which every body else admits to be probable, or, even cer- 
tain: or, if, on evidence which he regards as unsatisfactory, 
he is induced to admit the truth of conclusions, that are not 
deduced from mathematical principles, his understanding 



32 On the Study of Mathematical Science. 

debauched and enervated by excessive devotion to & 
species of evidence in which there are no degrees, will be 
apt to overlook the nice and almost infinite shades of pro- 
bability, and thus become credulous. 

The writer of this essay, was well acquainted with a 
mathematician, who averred with perfect innocence and 
simplicity, his conscientious belief that all forms of govern- 
ment were equally expedient, all codes of law equally equi- 
table, and all systems of morality equally defensible. 






ESSAY II. 

ON THE NATURE, EXTENT, AND LIMITS OP HUMAN KNOWLEDGE 
SO FAR AS IT 19 POUNDED IN THE RELATION OP CAUSE AND 
EFFECT, AND CONCERNS MIND AND MATTER. 

According to Mr. Locke, there are two original inlets 
to human knowledge, sensation and reflection. By sensa- 
tion we receive impressions from without, and acquire a 
knowledge, (so far as they are knowable,) of things exter- 
nal. By reflection, we become acquainted with what passes 
within, and acquire a knowledge, (so far as they are knowa- 
ble,) of things internal. Matter and its properties are the 
objects of sensation: mind and its energies the objects of 
reflection. 

This explanation is obviously deficient in philosophical 
precision. According to this explanation, if Locke, or one 
of his disciples (and every intelligent man who has read the 
Essay on the Human Understanding, is to a vast extent, and 
in the most emphatic sense of the terms, not his disciple 
merely, but his debtor,) were asked, how we acquire a 
knowledge of memory, imagination, reason, or any other 
intellectual faculty? He would reply — by reflection. 



34 Gn the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

But he would admit that we have as distinct a know- 
ledge of reflection, as of any other mental faculty, or, ope- 
ration: not surely, through the medium of another reflection, 
for if this mode of explanation be admitted, we must pro- 
ceed, ad infinitum* 

It follows, then, that we have a direct knowledge of re- 
flection, so far as it is known, orknowable, through the me- 
dium of consciousness: but if we acquire a knowledge of 
reflection, through the medium of consciousness, and have 
as clear a knowledge of reflection, as of any other mental 
operation, it will follow, also, that we acquire a knowledge 
of every other mental operation or faculty, through the same 
medium; in other words, that all our faculties, and mental 
operations, are subjects, or, modifications of consciousness. 

Reflection, therefore, as an original inlet of knowledge, 
is a word, without a distinct meaning: unless by reflection, 
we understand the earnest and exclusive attention, which 
the mind is capable of giving, to the separate subjects of 
its consciousness. Thus understood, reflection can mean, 
merely, a concentration of consciousness, on whatever, 
(whether an impression from without, or, an internal opera- 
tion,) excites peculiar interest, or, in other words, whatever 
is accompanied by an unusual degree of pleasure or pain, 
or, strongly, excites desire or aversion. 

Our language, and of course our ideas, as they regard 
the philosophy of the human mind, will be more precise, if 
we consider whatever is known or knowable, as proceeding 



Of Human Knowledge* 35 

from our consciousness, first, of impressions from external 
objects, and secondly, of the internal energies that are cal- 
led into action by these impressions. 

Viewed in this light, human knowledge, or, more pro- 
perly, that sort of human knowledge, which we entitle sci- 
ence, may be defined " the arrangement of the various sub- 
jects or modifications of consciousness, in the order of cause 
and effect: Or, a co-incidence betwixt the order, in which 
the various subjects and modifications of consciousness, is 
concatenated in the mind, and that in which the corres- 
ponding phenomena, are connected according to the rela- 
tion of cause and effect; or, if precise co-incidence be im- 
possible, in a constant approximation towards it, and in 
whatever is subsidiary to such co-incidence or approximation. 

Or, perhaps, the following definition may be more pre- 
cise and less obnoxious to misconception. 

A co-incidence between the association of ideas, and 
the order or succession of the events or phenomena, accor- 
ding to the relation of cause and effect, and in whatever is 
subsidiary, or necessary, to realize, approximate and extend 
such co-incidence: understanding by the relation of cause 
and effect, that order or succession, the discovery or devel- 
opment of which, empowers an intelligent being, by means 
of one event or phenomenon; or by a series of given events or 
phenomena, to anticipate the recurrence of another event or 
phenomenon, or of a required series of events or phenomena, 
and to summon them into existence, and employ their instru* 



SB On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

mentality, in the gratification of his wishes, or in the ac- 
complishment of his purposes.* 

Thus defined, knowledge is power,] and as we extend 

* The writer fears, that at first view, this definition will strike many read- 
ers as deficient, hoth in correctness and perspicuity. To those who have the 
■patience and candour to peruse the essay throughout, he trusts that the defi- 
nition if not satisfactory, will he at least perfectly intelligible. — Mr. Burke has 
judiciously observed, that a definition instead of commencing, ought to close, a 
philosophical essay or disquisition. 

The reader will find a striking and practical illustration of the truth and 
value of this observation, in the chapters of Zoonomya, that explain the phe- 
nomena of " Sleep," " Reverie," " Vertigo," and " Drunkenness." 

Although, therefore, in his essay on Human Knowledge, the author, has 
found, or, thought it expedient, to introduce a definition towards the com- 
mencement, he begs the intelligent reader, to read the whole essay, before he 
decidedly approves or condemns, receives or rejects the definition. 

He begs leave to add, that he will thank the reader, who deems the defi- 
nition he has given, objectionable, to state his objections; and to substitute one 
more correct and comprehensive. 

However defective his definition may be; it is assuredly the best, which he 
has to offer, and is offered neither lightly, nor rashly. 

f It may be objected, perhaps, to this explanation of human knowledge^ 
that an arraugement of our ideas, according to the order of cause and effect 
is not necessarily connected with power: that a knowledge of the phenomena 
and laws of the heavenly bodies, for Instance, however accurate and compre- 
hensive, confers no power to control their revolutions. Nor can a knowledge 
of the events recorded in history, even when disentangled from the intricate 
and often almost inextricable confusion in which they lie, and concatenated in 
the order of cause and effect, by the philosophical historian, confer any power 
over actors and actions that have passed away. 

It may be replied, that even in these instances, knowledge is indirectly, 
hut indissolubly connected with power. 

Although a knowledge of the phenomena and laws of the heavenly bodies, 
Confers no power of controlling their revolutions, yet it enlarges the sphere 
of human power; by enabling the navigator to guide his bark in safety over a 
fathomless ocean, and with certainty and by the shortest course to the destin- 
ed port, in a situation where destruction, without this knowledge, would b§ 
inevitable, and nautical skill impotent. 



Of Human Knowledge, 37 

it, we extend also our power to control and regulate the 
phenomena and energies of material and moral nature. 

It were surely unnecessary to expatiate on the moral power of doing 
good, or, of averting evil, which a knowledge of history confers on the legis- 
lator: on the power which it confers of establishing beneficent institutions and 
salutary laws^ and of preventing the reestablishment, or effecting the abolition 
of noxious institutions and unwise regulations. 

It may perhaps too, be asked, how, according to this explanation, is ma- 
thematical science comprehended within the circle of human knowledge; in- 
asmuch, as it is not^n arrangement of any of the subjects of consciousness, in 
the established order of cause and effect, but an interminable series of con- 
clusions logically deduced, and accompanied at every step, by a conviction of 
their essential immutability: involving too, many theorems lhat have no per- 
ceived application, immediate or remote, to external phenomena? 

Assuredly, any definition or explanation of human knowledge, that did 
not necessarily embrace, and much more one that excluded mathematical sci- 
ence; would not be ludicrously incomplete merely, but opprobiously erroneous. 

But the explanation of human knowledge previously given, is not obnox- 
ious to so fatal an objection. 

As every mathematical theorem or problem is necessarily conversant 
with quantity, and as quantity isof the essence of matter and motion, which 
can be measured only by the practical application of these theorems and pro- 
blems, it follows, that a knowledge of mathematical truths, and of the caleu- 
lus by which they are applied, extends the sphere of human power. It fol- 
lows, too, that mathematical demonstration is an instrument, by which the 
human mind is enabled to unravel the chain of cause and effect, to an extent, 
and with an accuracy and minuteness, otherwise unattainable. 

In demonstrating the properties of the parabolic or elliptic curves, or 
solving complicated problems by the algebraical or'fluxionary calculus, we are 
in reality acquiring a knowledge of astronomical phenomena, and power to 
predict the future phases of the heavenly bodies, and not only a knowledge of 
the phenomena, but a power to predict and even to control, the phenomena 
and agency of projectiles. By a knowledge of mathematical science, we are 
not only enabled to unravel the chain of cause and effect, but to weigh and 
measure the subtilest and most ponderous links, in that interminable chain. 
We are led too by the strongest and clearest analogy to conclude, that every 
mathematical truth, (however, merely theoretical and practically useless it 
may seem when first developed, and whatever length of time may elapse be- 
fore its use and application are discovered,) is in its essence applicable to the 



38 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

According to this explanation of human knowledge, 
ignorance, implies the total absence or non-existence of 
certain impressions and ideas in the mind: and the absence 



phenomena and laws of matter, and in its essence, therefore, an instrument 
for extending our knowledge of, and control over, the chain of cause and 
effect. 

But a more solemn objector may possibly inquire, how, according to this 
explanation of the nature of human knowledge, are the all-important truths 
of natural and revealed religion embraced? Are these truths founded in the 
relation of cause and effect? Is a knowledge of these truths, power? 

It may be replied, that it is the object of natural theology, to deduce evi- 
dences of the existeuce and attributes of God, from our knowledge of the 
laws of nature in this quarter of the universe, or, in other words, from pheno- 
mena, as they are presented to the view of human reason, in the order of 
eause and effect. 

A knowledge of these operations, and of the analogies to which they lead, 
being the foundation of these evidences, it follows, that the extent and soli- 
dity of the superstructure will be proportioned to the accuracy and extent of 
our knowledge of the relation of cause and effect, and that, in fact, natural the- 
ology will constitute a part, and by far the most important part, of this 
knowledge. 

A belief in the existence, attributes and superintending providence of the 
Creator of the universe, of " our Father who is in heaven," being thus es- 
tablished in the human mind; rules will be deduced and laid down for the re- 
gulation of our motives and actions according to the interpretation of the will 
of God, as manifested in the works of his creation, to " his children on the 
earth." These rules will consequently derive their sanctions, their obligatory 
force, their moral power, over the hearts and habits of men, from the belief 
thus established in their understandings: the conformity of their motives and 
actions to these rules, or more properly an habitual desire and steady effort, 
to conform their dispositions and conduct to these rules, is the only unequivo- 
cal evidence of the sincerity and assurance of this belief. The principles of 
natural theology, are therefore not only founded in the relation of cause and 
effect, but a knowledge of these principles is moral poiver. 

It is the object of revealed religion, to establish in the minds of mortals, an 
universal and unshaken faith in the truth of doctrines that concern a future state 
of existence of endless duration, of the redemption of the world by the sufferings 
and death, the " merits and mediation" of Jesus Christ; and of the necessary con- 



Of Human Knowledge, 39 

or non-existence consequently* of their arrangement, in the 
order of cause and effect: Ignorance consequently is im- 
potence. 



nection, which divine justice has established betwixt the eternal happiness or 
misery of every individual, to whom the doctrines and precepts of Christianity 
have been mediately or immediately revealed, and an acceptance or rejection of 
the doctrines, an observance or violation of the precepts of the gospel. 

But the precepts of the gospel derive their sanctions, their obligatory force, 
their moral power, from a belief of the peculiar doctrines of the Christian reli- 
gion: In other words, the efficacy of revealed religion, in purifying the hearts 
and habits of those who profess to believe its doctrines, is derived from the sin- 
cerity and assurance of the belief which they profess. 

Good works may be performed, virtue may be loved and practised, and 
vice abhorred and eschewed, from motives disconnected from a belief in the 
truth of these doctrines; but it ought never to be forgotten, that good works are 
the only unequivocal evidence in the sight of man, and the saving evidence in 
the sight of God, of the sincerity of christian faith. 

But a belief in the truth of these doctrines, mu9t be founded in a knowledge 
of the evidences of Christianity, and this knowledge must have been derived, ori- 
ginally, from witnessing the miracles wrought by its divine author; the immacu- 
late purity of his life; his unshaken constancy and exalted benevolence even to 
his persecutors in the hour of tormenting and ignominious death; his 
glorious resurrection and ascension after death: or subsequently, from a 
knowledge of his miracles, character, life and death, founded in the testimony 
of the original witnesses, and transmitted through the medium of history and tra- 
dition. 

The knowledge of the original witnesses consisted in their perceiving, or 
becoming conscious from impressions made upon their senses, that the estab- 
lished order of cause and effect was suspended, or reversed at a particular time 
and place, by the immediate volition of the son of God. 

But the new and unprecedented succession of events, in other words, the 
miracle, must have been made known to the original witnesses through the me- 
dium of the same organs, and by impressions similar to those that convey a 
knowledge of the established order of cause and effect. 

The evideuce of revealed religion, is therefore founded like every other de- 
partment of human knowledge, in the relation of cause and effect. 

That a knowledge of revealed religion is power, can be doubted only by those 
unhappy individuals, who disbelieve the doctrine, which it announces: to those 
who are happy enough to cherish a firm and undoubting faith, in the doctrines 



40 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

Error implies the presence or existence of certain im- 
pressions or ideas in the mind, but essentially consists in 
their arrangement or combination, in a manner, that varies 
from the order of cause and effect, in the department of hu- 
man knowledge to which they relate. 

The moral effect of knowledge, ignorance, and error^ 
on the human character and on human happiness, will be 
best illustrated by examples. 

This illustration will perhaps more readily arrest the 
attention and strike the imagination of the juvenile reader, 
and will not probably be less acceptable to any reader, by 
assuming the garb of allegory. 

Ignorance gazes on the starry heavens with amazement, 
longs to comprehend the laws that harmonize their stupen- 
dous and seemingly irregular revolutions, and listens with 
the most eager curiosity to a satisfactory explanation of 
those mighty laws. 

Error adopts the hypothesis of Ptolemy, believes the 
earth to be the central orb, around which the heavens re- 
volve, and not only shuts her eye to the evidence of the 
Copernican system, but is impatient to persecute its author 
and his disciples. Error incarcerates Gallileo, in the dun- 



of revealed religion, its power must not only be matter of habitual conscious- 
ness, but must be manifested also to the view of others, in their characters and 
actions, by a course of conduct, regulated, (so far as the frailty of human nature 
will permit,) according to its precepts. 

On the potver t which a clear knowledge and firm belief of the doctrines of 
revealed religion, exerts and manifests on the character and conduct of the be- 
liever, the saving virtue of that knowledge and faith depends, if there be meaa- 
ing in words, or truth in the gospel. 



Of Human Knowledge, 41 

geons of the inquisition, for establishing the truth of that 
system, and whilst ignorance is enbracing that truth with 
gratitude and admiration, error drags Gallileo from his 
dungeon, chained like a malefactor, and compels him by 
the terrors of the rack to bow his hoary head at the foot- 
stool of papal tyranny and solemnly declare his disbelief 
of what he had demonstrated to be true, and his belief of 
what he had demonstrated to be untrue. 

Knowledge, not only enables Gallileo to demonstrate 
the truth of the Copernican system; but to endure im- 
prisonment, persecution, and odium with unshaken con- 
stancy, to submit to the mummery of abjuration without 
self-abasement, and to anticipate the time when the papal 
tyranny shall be annihilated, when the truths he has de- 
monstrated, shall be embraced by successive generations, 
and his name venerated through the habitable globe. 

Ignorance wandering in a church-yard in the gloom of 
midnight, is unterrified. 

Error, sees sheeted ghosts rising from their tombs, and 
evil spirits glaring through the gloom, shudders with horror, 
and eagerly propagates a belief in these terrible illusions. 

Knowledge, conscious of the irreality of these phan- 
tasms, enters the church-yard, enveloped in midnight's 
blackest gloom, with serenity and security, to meditate on 
the mortality of man and the inanity of earthly things, or 
to procure means for obtaining a deeper insight into the 
phenomena of disease and death, and for unfolding by 
anatomical dissection, to the view of ignorance, how fear- 

F 



42 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

fully and wonderfully the divine wisdom and power are 
manifested in the structure of the human frame. 

Ignorance, conscious of various capacities for pleasure 
and pain, happiness and misery, and conscious also of her 
impotence to distinguish good from evil, listens with docility 
to the voice of wisdom, and pursues with promptitude and 
thankfulness, the path she points out. 

Error, in the pursuit of happiness, swayed by a blind 
and presumptuous confidence, mistakes the path, and al- 
though conscious of misery and haunted by remorse at 
every advancing step, refuses to listen to the warning voice 
of wisdom and even hates and persecutes her votaries, 
wanders on " still more and more astray," till at length 
in the dotage and infatuation of inveterate habit, she ex- 
claims " evil be thou my good." 

Knowledge, perceiving that pleasure and pain, happi- 
ness and misery are the necessary effects of good and evil, 
and that good and evil make a part and by far the most 
important part of the chain of cause and effect, strives by 
attentive observation, by patient and profound analysis, to 
unravel those subtile and precious links in that intermina- 
ble chain. Knowledge arranges her ideas according to the 
result of this analysis, and regulating her motives and 
actions by these ideas, not only discovers and pursues the 
road of happines, but points out that road to the weary and 
wo-worn pilgrim, prevents ignorance from entering the paths 
of error, reclaims the inexperienced wanderer, before he is 
irretrievably bewildered in those fatal paths, and holds up 
the hopeless misery of irreclaimable and impenitent error, 
as a warning to the world. 



Of Human Knoml 'edge, 43 

To return from this digression. Such being the foun- 
dation of human knowledge, or (to use a more definite and 
appropriate term,) of science: in order to ascertain its ex- 
tent and limits, it will be necessary to analyse the relation 
of cause and effect. The advances that have been made 
in the philosophy of the human mind, will enable the writer 
to place this subject in a light clear, and he hopes, inter- 
esting, even to readers, who are but little conversant with 
such speculations.* 

Why do I believe it to be certain that " the sun will rise 
to-morrow." This proposition is not an axiom, for it does 
not concern quantity, nor does it refer to any relation subsist- 
ing amongst ideas within, but amongst events without the 
mind; and the contrary proposition can be affirmed without 
involving a contradiction. Our belief therefore is not 
founded in intuition; the cessation or non-existence of the 
event affirmed, the sun's not rising, is as distinctly conceiva- 
ble, as its recurrence in time future. 

* We are indebted to the sagacity of Hume, for the first 
satisfactory elucidation of the all-important fact, that our know- 
ledge of cause and effect does embrace and can embrace nothing- 
more, than a perception and belief, of the uniform antecedence 
of one event, and sequence of another. Without a clear con- 
viction of this fundamental fact, (which Mr. Hume has not only 
unfolded, but generalized and illustrated in his essay " On Ne- 
cessary Connection,") any attempt to explain the extent and 
limits of human knowledge, can be nothing more, than specious 
sophistry and idle declamation. The writer has, therefore, endea- 
voured, even at the hazard of being tedious to the philosophical 
reader, to concentrate the evidence of the truth of this principle, 
and to expose the fallacy of the plausible objections by which 
Reid and his disciples have endeavoured to controvert it. 



44 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

Nor is the truth of this proposition demonstrable, for no 
reasoning resolvable into axioms can be invented or dis- 
covered to support it: nor, if by reasoning we understand 
the discovery of any relation amongst ideas, or the deduc- 
tion of any proof or arguments from principles a priori, can 
reasoning of any sort be invented to support it. To say, 
that the certainty of our belief is founded in experience, 
would be preposterous: there can be no experience in re- 
gard to what has not existed. The phrase future experi- 
ence, would be no less incongruous and contradictory, than 
past futurity or future past: experience assures us that the 
sun has risen, by the evidence of distinct and recent recol- 
lection in our own minds, fortified by the concurring and 
recent recollections of every human being, with whom we 
have any means of intercourse or communication: experi- 
ence assures us, that the sun is rising, by still stronger 
evidence, that of present sensation: experience can go no 
farther, unless by experience we understand prophecy. 

The question originally proposed still recurs, on what 
foundation does this belief rest? In order to answer this 
question satisfactorily, and place the answer in a light the 
most likely to engage attention, let us consider in what way 
a firm belief that the sun would rise to-morrow, must have 
been impressed upon the mind of Adam. 

Let us imagine then that Adam, after being moulded from 
the dust of the earth into the human form, in the most per- 
fect possible state of health, maturity, symmetry, strength, 
and beauty, and endowed with every human faculty in the 
highest possible state of perfection, is yet uninspired, and 



Of Human Knowledge, Ab 

receives information respecting the phenomena of the ma- 
terial universe, solely through impressions made on his ex- 
ternal senses. 

He beholds the sun rise in the east, ascend his " high 
meridian tower," descend and disappear in the west. 
Would Adam, admitting that he possessed neither the pow- 
ers of divination nor prophecy, from the first exhibition of 
these grand phenomena, have inferred their regular recur- 
rence, within short and stated periods in time future, or 
would he have confidently anticipated their future re-ap- 
pearance within any definite period, or even their futurition? 

We cannot doubt, that during the first night after 
the sun's disappearance, Adam would experience entire 
uncertainty; and perceiving that the sun's absence divested 
the face, both of heaven and earth, of many bewitching at- 
tractions, would long for the speedy re-appearance of the 
glorious luminary with a solicitude, that would chase sweet 
sleep, even from the bowers of paradise; unless we believe 
that some hovering angel, was commissioned or permitted, 
to dissipate his uncertainty and solicitude, by announcing 
the regular re-appearance of the sun, in time future. 

Admitting, however, that Adam had no access to super- 
natural sources of information, the re-appearance of the 
sun in several successive instances, would excite in his 
mind a hope, that the sun would continue to re-appear 
within the same periods, in time future. The uninterrupt- 
ed recurrence of these phenomena for a considerable 
length of time, would convert lively hope into confident 
expectation; and his continued and regular re-appearance 



48 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

for a very considerable length of time, would mature 
expectation into a firm assurance, an unhesitating belief, 
that the a lternation of day and night made a part of the 
established course of nature. 

The firmness of this assurance would increase, with 
the length of time during which, and the regularity with 
which, the phenomena recurred. After their first disap- 
pearance, the mind would experience entire uncertainty 
and suspense, with regard to their future re-appearance. 
Their regular recurrence for a short length of time would 
excite hope: during the lapse of a considerable length of 
time, hope would be converted into expectation: and their 
uninterrupted recurrence for a very great length of time, 
would impart to expectation, the utmost assurance and 
confidence, that, (without longer experience or access to 
supernatural sources of information) could be impressed 
upon the human mind. 

Had the alternation of day and night, recurred, irregu- 
larly in time past, were there even a single recollected or 
authenticated instance, of the non-appearance of the sun 
within the usual period, the firmness of human assurance 
would be shaken to its foundation: our expectation of the 
regular recurrence of these phenomena, might reach a high 
degree of probability, but could scarcely, during the longest 
period, and the most uniform recurrence during that period, 
afterwards amount to certainty: unless, indeed, his non-ap- 
pearance, within the usual period, was ascribed to the 
interposition of Omnipotence, or unless a more intimate 
and profound knowledge of the principles of astronomy, 
should prove that his disappearance, periodically, during 



Of Human Knowledge* 47 

forty-eight hours, was the effect of the mechanism of the 
planetary system. 

In what then does certainty consist? In a habit gradu- 
ally formed, of connecting our ideas in the order, in which 
the phenomena by which they are excited, have invariably 
succeeded each other in time past, so far back, as our own 
recollection, the concurring recollections of our country- 
men and contemporaries, the records of authentic history, 
and the faint light of tradition can penetrate into the night 
of time; and anticipating a similar succession of phenomena 
in time future. 

The inveteracy of this habit of thinking, the confidence 
and firmness of this anticipation, will be proportioned to 
the length of time during which, and the regularity with 
which the phenomena have recurred. 

The same analysis maybe applied to our belief, "that all 
men are mortal;" u that certain substances will nourish, and 
others will poison the human body in its sound and healthy 
state;" " that every human being in sound health and pos- 
sessing a sane mind, is capable of exerting a voluntary 
control, to a certain extent over his limbs, organs, and 
mental energies, and that this control may be indefinitely 
extended by education and discipline:" "that particular 
modes of organizing and administering government, par- 
ticular plans of education, and habits of acting, contribute 
to the improvement and happiness, and others to the depra- 
vation and misery of human beings," &c. 

I am aware, that a different account of belief is given by 
doctor Reid, and adopted by several of the ingenious and 



48 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

respectable disciples of his philosophy: they resolve our 
belief, that the succession of events in time future, will be 
similar to their succession in time past, into instinct. 

Due attention to the following observations will, it is 
hoped, expose the fallacy of this account of belief. 

First, a recurrence to extraordinary causes is unphilo- 
sophical, where ordinary causes are adequate to explain, 
and perfectly tally with, the phenomena we are considering: 
secondly, if instinct means any thing, it must mean the an- 
ticipated sequence of one event, on the appearance or oc- 
currence of another, before the actual order of succession 
has been perceived: but is it not universally obvious, to the 
most superficial observation, that by far the greater part, 
and infinitely the most important part, of our knowledge 
of things within us and without, is derived from the succes- 
sion of events as it is gradually unfolded to our minds, by 
consciousness, observation, and experiment? 

If human belief in the recurrence of events in time fu- 
ture, in the same order in which they have occurred in time 
past, were instinctive, a child at the earliest, (or certainly 
at a very early) stage of existence, would distinguish imme- 
diately, betwixt those successions of events that are casual 
and separable, and those that are indissoluble; betwixt con- 
nexions that are founded in accidental, and those that are 
founded in constant, contiguity of time and place: but no- 
thing is more notorious, than the constant mistakes of young 
persons in this respect at every stage of existence, betwixt 
infancy and maturity, or, than the facility with which the 
ignorant and inexperienced may be induced to believe that 



Of Human Knowledge* 49 

a connection merely casual is causal; nothing more notori- 
ous, than the difficulty, where a particular event is pre- 
ceded by a variety of circumstances, of distinguishing be- 
twixt the casual and the permanent antecedent, or, as Dr. 
Johnson would express it, betwixt what is "collateral and 
what is consecutive:" This, in fact, is the difficulty, that con- 
tinually tasks the ingenuity of the natural philosopher, in 
his observations and experiments, and the moral phi- 
losopher, in his inquiries and speculations; and in over- 
coming which, philosophical genius achieves its proudest 
triumph, and most effectually contributes to the advance- 
ment of human knowledge. 

Further, if the existence of such an instinct be ad- 
mitted, to what extent does it operate? Does it impress 
an assurance that the future will generally resemble the 
past, or is this assurance confined to particular instances? 
A general belief, can mean only, an instinctive assurance 
of this sort, in a multitude of particular instances: Thus 
understood, general, will differ in import from particu- 
lar, only by the number of instances, and in either case 
it is important, that the sphere within which this in- 
stinct operates, be exactly defined; that the particu- 
lar instances to which it applies should be distinguished 
and enumerated. Other objections to this account of be- 
lief, might be proposed, but enough has, I trust, been urged 
to expose its fallacy. 

Belief, in all the modification it assumes, and in all its 
degrees of hesitation and assurance, corresponds with the ex- 

G 



50 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

planation previously proposed. From the invariable succes- 
sion of phenomena in time past in a certain order, we anti- 
cipate their certain recurrence in time future, in the same 
order: From their irregular recurrence in time past, we 
anticipate a similar irregularity in time future: Our 
anticipation that a particular event will occur hereafter, 
increases or diminishes in its assurance and consequent 
influence on our motives and actions, on a scale descend- 
ing from the highest degree of probability, or (without 
a periphrasis,) from certainty, through presumptive, posi- 
tive, and circumstantial shades of evidence, almost infinite 
in number, till we arrive at mere possibility. 

But methinks, I hear a disciple of doctor Reid's phi- 
losophy inquire: " Do you regard the alternate succession 
of day and night, as an instance of the relation of cause and 
effect?'' , and add, with an air of polite irony, " if it be an in- 
stance, this relation must be somewhat mysterious, it will, 
at least be difficult, to distinguish betwixt cause and effect: 
for if night be the effect of day, because it has invariably 
followed day in time past, day, for the same reason, must 
be the effect of night, because day has succeeded night in 
time past, as invariably." 

To this inquiry, the author would gravely answer — no, he 
does not regard the alternation of day and night, in the loose 
and ordinary acceptation of these terms, as an instance 
of the relation of cause and effect, although in their proper 
and philosophical acceptation, it certainly is, as may be 
readily and satisfactorily shown. 



Of Human Knowledge, 51 

If by day, we understand the appearance of the sun, 
and the diffusion of his light over that ever varying portion 
of the earth's surface, which its diurnal rotation, combined 
with its progressive motion in its orbit, expose to the rays 
of that luminary, shining through a transparent medium; day 
is the effect, and the irradiation of his beams on that por- 
tion of the terraqueous surface which is thus exposed, is the 
cause: if by night, we understand the temporary disappear- 
ance of the sun and of sunshine, from that also ever vary- 
ing portion of the earth's surface, which its diurnal rotation 
combined with its progressive motion in its orbit, averts 
from the face of that luminary, by interposing terraque- 
ous opacity; the interposition of an opaque body is the 
cause, and night is the effect. 

Thus analyzed, day and night, according to their popu- 
lar acceptation, resolve themselves into four links in the 
chain of cause and effect: the exposure of a portion of the 
earth's surface to the sun, and the consequent radiation of 
his rays, through a transparent intervening atmosphere, 
over that portion of his surface which is thus exposed, con- 
stitute what is usually called day: the aversion of a portion 
of the earth's surface from the sun, and the darkness, or, 
absence of solar light in consequence of interposing terra- 
queous opacity, constitute what is usually called night. 

Thus developed, the regular alternation of day and night 
exemplifies and supports the explanation that has been 
offered of the relation of cause and effect, as completely, as 
any phenomena that could be selected for that purpose: 
and the author must be pardoned for adding, that to take 



52 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

advantage of the ambiguity and looseness of popular 
language, in order to throw an air of ridicule, on a philoso- 
phical explanation, savours more of sophistical artifice, 
than of fair reasoning. 

These observations have, it is hoped, disposed the rea- 
der, to examine this radical relation with an awakened 
curiosity and profound attention. 

Whatever " moves or has its being" in this nook of the 
universe, and falls within the range of human intelligence, 
either exists in that small portion of organized and cor- 
ruptible matter, within which individual intellect is confined, 
and is made known to us, so far as it is knowable, through 
the consciousness of its energies; or, it exists externally to 
that portion of organized matter, and is made known to us, 
so far as it is knowable, through the consciousness of im- 
pressions made upon our organs. 

That which is conscious of what passes within us, and 
of impressions made by what exists externally, is called 
mind: That of which our bodies are formed and organized, 
which exists externally to, and is constantly making im- 
pressions on our organs, is called matter: Of the substance 
or essence of either, we know, we can know, nothing. We 
are conscious of various internal movements and energies 
to which we give the names of faculties, sensations, ideas, 
passions, emotions, &c. but of the nature and qualities of 
that by which these movements and energies are produced, 
and in which they inhere, we neither know nor can know 
any thing. 



Of Huma n Knowh dg e. 53 

By the mediation of our corporeal organs, we receive 
an almost infinite number and variety of impressions from 
material objects, but of the nature and qualities of the 
material objects from which these impressions proceed, 
what these objects are, independently of these impressions, 
we neither know nor can know, any thing. 

It is of infinite importance to the advancement of human 
knowledge, and to the due assertion consequently, of the 
rights of human nature, to dignity and dominion upon earth, 
that the line of separation which nature has irreversibly 
drawn, betwixt the knozvable and the unknowable, should be 
distinctly, and if possible, universally perceived; that the 
proper subjects of human knowledge, should be recognised, 
their boundaries accurately defined, and the proper methods 
of investigating these subjects, clearly understood and skil- 
fully adopted. 

The most gigantic intellect, when it attempts to grasp 
a subject, that lies beyond the boundaries of human know- 
ledge; in the region not of the unknown, but of the un- 
knowable, is as impotent, as the most ordinary mind. 

The injury which mankind sustain, from this misappli- 
cation and waste of transcendant genius, is immense. They 
not only lose the vast contributions that might have been 
made to the stock of knowledge, but the errors of genius 
are all but immortal, and constitute the most formidable 
and permanent impediments to the progress of science. 
Recommended by ingenious reasoning, by eloquence, by- 
whatever taste and imagination can supply, to propagate 
delusion and make error contagious, they bewilder the hu- 



54 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

man mind through successive generations: Inextricabllis 
scepe, et dulcissimus error: They occasion a permanent 
intellectual eclipse: Human reason for ages " sheds disas- 
trous twilight over half the nations." If all the mighty 
minds that have in time past, exerted their intellectual 
powers to promote the advancement of human knowledge, 
had confined their inquiries within the sphere of the knowa- 
ble, it is impossible for the most brilliant and sanguine 
imagination to conceive, how greatly the stock of human 
knowledge would have been augmented and all the bles- 
sings that spring from its augmentation, diffused and multi- 
plied throughout the habitable globe. 

If we lament the misapplication of human labour and 
commercial wealth, in impracticable and abortive projects, 
how much more lamentable is the misapplication of mental 
ingenuity and the waste of intellectual treasure, in idle and 
presumptuous speculations! How lamentable, is the applica- 
tion of mental ingenuity, in the construction and embellish- 
ment of hypotheses, (without foundation in the truth of 
things,) that might have been employed, in cementing and 
consolidating the adamantine fabric, of mathematical and 
experimental science! In erecting a sort of intellectual pyra- 
mids, that deform and encumber the face of the earth, with- 
draw a portion of fertile surface from cultivation, and en- 
tomb mummies on a spot, where civilized man might have 
lived, and multiplied, and flourished. 

How did the publication of the " Novum Organum" 
contribute so essentially to the advancement of human 
knowledge: but by marking (boldly indeed, but indistinctly^ 



Of Human Knowledge. 55 

indelibly, but deviously,) the line of separation betwixt the 
knowable and the unknowable, and illustrating the methods, 
by which the distinctive properties of objects unknown but 
knowable, might be most successfully investigated? 

As it is indispensible to a correct and comprehensive 
knowledge of the relation of cause and effect, that this line 
should be clearly perceived, the author will endeavour to 
explain distinctly, to what extent the properties of mind and 
matter, are knowable. 

As through the medium of consciousness, we become 
acquainted only with certain intellectual energies, with- 
out having any consciousness of the substance in which 
they inhere, or of the ties by which they are connected; all 
speculations concerning the materiality or immateriality, the 
mortality or immortality, the "pre- existence or post-existence 
of the soul, (unassisted by the light of divine revelation,) 
relate to subjects, that lie within the region of the unknowa- 
ble, and are necessarily abortive: and surely, if additional 
evidence were wanting, that inquiries of this sort mock the 
curiosity and overtask the faculties of the human mind, it 
is furnished, by the acknowledged and memorable fact, that 
in relation to these mysterious subjects, the lispings of sci- 
ence in her infancy, were as satisfactory, authoritative, and 
plausible, as the deliberate dictates of her ripened wisdom: 
that her efforts to grasp and comprehend these subjects^ 
when she reposed in her cradle in the schools of Athens, 
were not less successful, than the most strenuous exertions 
of her matured strength. We are still as ignorant, and still 



bQ On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

as unable (by the power of merely human reason, or, in 
the light of merely human knowledge) to resolve the ques- 
tions, whether mind is simple or compound, extended or 
unextended, material or immaterial^ mortal or immortal, 
as when " the first philosophic savage wondered at himself." 

Farther, as our knowledge of matter, (either as it com- 
poses our organized frame, or as it exists, in the infinite va- 
riety of objects, external to our organs,) is derived wholly, 
from the consciousness of impressions, made by different parts 
and organs of our body, on each other; and of the impressions, 
which external objects make upon our organs; and as these 
impressions, convey no knowledge of the qualities, by which 
they are excited, or of the substance, in which these qualities 
inhere; it follows, that all speculations, respecting matter, as 
distinct from the impressions it makes upon our organs, are 
necessarily abortive. 

In attempting to prosecute inquiries of this sort, the 
most powerful and accomplished intellect, like the Aeronaut, 
who ascends into an aerial region too thin to distend the 
lungs and supply the " pabulum vitae," feels his strength 
forsake him:— he pants and gasps for breath: — 

All speculations, for instance, concerning the substance 
or essence of matter, concerning its passivity or activity, con- 
cerning its inherent and derivative properties, its essential 
qualities and its accidents, its existence, or, its non-existence; 
or, if its existence be admitted; concerning the mode of its 
existence; whether it is composed of solid extended, and infi- 
nitely divisible, or, ultimately impenetrable and consequently 



Of Human Knowledge* 67 

divisible of atoms; or of mathematical points existing sepa* 
rately, in the centre of a sphere of repulsion, acting with a 
force infinite and irresistible! all speculations of. this sort, 
relate to subjects, that lie far within the illimitable regions 
of the unknowable; subjects, that man possesses neither 
senses nor faculties, fitted to investigate. 

Speculations of this sort, may serve and have served, to 
exert and exhaust^ all the strength and subtlety of the hu- 
man understanding; as a sort of intellectual gymnasium, in 
which, all the faculties of the human mind may be and have 
been, exercised, invigorated, disciplined and armed: in which, 
human reason, is trained to wield with dexterity and skill, 
every mental weapon, offensive or defensive, ponderous or 
missile; but they can directly contribute nothing to the stock 
of human knowledge: nor can man, until he clearly discerns, 
that the successful prosecution of such inquiries, demands 
the exertion of faculties, essentially superhuman, even begin 
to be wise: he cannot even pass the barriers of that " bound- 
less theatre, on which, in sight of mortal and immortal pow- 
ers," he is destined to advance in a career of progressive 
improvement that will terminate only, when, 

" The stars shall fade away." 

Such speculations are not only necessarily abortive and in* 
terminable, but even, if a satisfactory result could be ob- 
tained, it would be useless. 

The impressions which external objects make upon our 
organs, interest us only as they communicate pleasure or 
pain, serve to preserve vital health and vigour, and furnish 



58 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

materials for the gratification of our appetites and the ex- 
ercise of our intellectual powers: but whatever the nature 
of the qualities that excite these impressions, and of the 
substance in which they inhere may be, the impressions 
themselves, their consequence in our estimation, their influ- 
ence, on that alone which can interest a conscious being, 
its happiness, must remain the same. 

To what extent, then, is what exists within us, what 
we denominate mind; what we conceive to exist as the agent 
by which, and the object for which, every thing else exists, 
that by which we estimate the value of whatever else ex- 
ists, and without which it were valueless; that without which, 
the material universe, with all its regularity and harmony, 
were a Chaos still; to what extent is the nature of mind 
knowable? 

To an extent, sufficient to satisfy rational curiosity, and 
to exercise for an indefinite length of time, the powers of 
the most penetrating and capacious intellect. By the aid 
of conventional language and a due attention to the subjects 
of our consciousness, we are able to arrange ideas; to dis- 
tinguish the various modes, in which they are associated 
into opinions and habits of thinking, and develop an 
almost infinite number and variety of relations, in the high- 
est degree delightful to speculative curiosity, and aseful in 
their practical applications and results: through the same 
medium, and by the same aids^ we are able to analyze the 
various motives of action, however subtle, mixed and 
evanescent, to ascertain their moral character, their tenden- 
cies to produce happiness or misery, to class the various 



Of Human Knowledge. 53 

passions and affections, and determine how far virtue, in 
other words, the dictates of our personal and social duties 
require, that they should be eradicated, regulated, indulged 
or repressed. 

Metaphysics,* mathematics, morals, sciences of unli- 
mited extent, grow out of a reflex and profound attention to 



* To prevent misconception, it will be proper to state dis- 
tinctly, the meaning which the writer attaches to a word, whose 
acceptations are so multifarious, and even opposite. Assuredly 
he does not, by metaphysics, understand, an investigation of the 
properties of" Ens quatenus ens," nor of any part of the " om- 
nia scibilia" of transcendental ontology. The discussion of the 
questions, whether " God loves a possible angel, better than an 
actually existing fly," or, " whether, besides the real being of 
the actual being, there be any other being, necessary to cause 
a thing to be," is, he suspects, within the limits of the " vast 
Serbonian bog" of scholastic dogma and jargon, where intellec- 
tual heroes and " armies whole have sunk." Warned by their 
fate, their successors would deserve to share it, were they volun- 
tarily to brave the perils of that unfathomed, unrefunding, and 
interminable bog, anew. 

By metaphysics, the writer understands, an analysis of the 
proper subjects and impassable boundaries of human know- 
ledge, and of the most eligible and efficient methods of investi- 
gating these subjects: of the different sorts and degrees of evi- 
dence, and a knowledge consequently, of the hesitation or as- 
surance, which the different sorts and degrees of evidence, ought 
to impress on the enlightened mind: of the comparative impor- 
tance of the different departments of human knowledge, and the 
rank consequently, which they are respectively -entitled to claim 
in the scale of utility and dignity, and in every system or course 
of liberal education: an analysis, farther, of the sources and con- 
stituents of human happiness, and of the mode of appropriating 
<k the opulence of civilized man" liberal leisure, by which the 



60 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

the subjects of consciousness, and lie within the region of 
the knowable. 



sources of happiness are most readily accessible, and in which 
its constituents are most certainly realized, and skilfully com- 
bined. 

Thus defined, (and the correctness of the definition, will not, 
he trusts, be questioned,) it would be as impertinent to expati- 
ate on the importance of metaphysics, as to write a laboured eulo- 
gy upon the utility of sight or sunbeams: yet in an age, which 
may be appropriately and proudly stiled, the age of metaphy- 
sics, and in a country too, that claims its envied pre-eminence 
in the republic of letters, from the successful cultivation of this 
science; in the very metropolis of that country, in whose college, 
around whose pulpits, bench and bar, and even in whose sym- 
posiacs, its solar lights are beaming and burning; an accomplish- 
ed philosophical critic challenges one of the living luminaries of 
this science, to vindicate its practical utility, to display the good 
it has achieved, and the trophies which its votaries have won, 
from the admiration and gratitude of the wise ana 4 good. " The 
natural philosopher," the critic urges, " can display his telescope 
and his orrery, his prism and his microscope, his electric and 
Voltaic batteries, his instruments for disarming the clouds of 
their thunderbolts, and his means of forming an artificial thun- 
der, more tremendous and desolating, yet tractable to human 
power; but what," the metaphysician is asked? somewhat scorn- 
fully, " have you to show?" 

It might be answered that metaphysical knowledge like 
solar light, although perhaps invisible and impalpable, reveals 
the beauty of whatever is lovely to the mind's eye, or delicious 
to cultivated taste: That happiness which has been well defin- 
ed to consist in " a multiplicity of agreeable consciouness," can 
neither be rarefied by heat nor refracted through a prism, nor 
decomposed in a crucible, nor concentrated by a lens: That 
virtue itself, although gloriously visible in her immortal anal 
incorporeal loveliness, in the inspired and inspiring visions of 



Of Human Knowledge. 61 

The various and ever varying relations too, which hu- 
man beings bear to each other, in different physical circum- 
stances, under different political institutions and in different 

" Comus and Paradise Lost," and faithfully reflected in the 
truth-illumed mirror of moral fiction, which Edgeworth has 
fashioned to instruct and delight man and woman-kind, can nei- 
ther be chizzeled upon marble nor portrayed upon canvass: 
That the elevating consciousness of superior penetration and 
intelligence, the proud capacity to " admire with knowledge,'* 
compare with discernment, " observe with distinction," and ana- 
lyze with acuteness and accuracy, although neither, a raree- 
show to the eyes, nor music to the ear, is more intrinsically 
precious, more truly good, than the most curious and brilliant 
spectacles which the experimentalist can exhibit; is more de- 
lightful to the soul of man, even than the " music of the 
spheres;" and supply the only standards, by which the -value of 
these spectacles can be estimated, the only light in which their 
grandeur is visible to the " mind's eye," the only medium 
through which that divine music, is audible to the mind's ear: 
That wisdom although valueless in the estimation and impon- 
derable in the scales, of the idolaters of mammon, is in fact, bet- 
ter than gold, in the judgment of enlightened reason, and far out- 
weighs " gold, ay fine gold," in the balance of impartial justice: 
That the " novum organum" is surely more valuable than the 
most admirably constructed orrery, and the ** theory of moral 
sentiments" more truly beautiful, than the diamond beetle seen 
through the finest microscope, or even than the solar ray re- 
fracted by a prism. All this and much in the same strain 
might be urged: but a more appropriate reply is at hand. It 
is from metaphysics, that modern criticism borrows, not its 
fescue and its ferrule! These coarse and rude implements, with 
which, it guided and governed the infancy of intellect; it has 
laid aside with becoming scorn. It is from metaphysics, that 
it borrows all the ensignia of its sceptred majesty; it is from 
metaphysics, that it derives that Talisman of analysis, whose 



6S2 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

stages of civilization, lie within the region of the knowable: 
facts of this sort, collected by observation, recorded by his- 
tory, analyzed and reduced to system by philosophy, supply 

lightest touch, like that of IthuriePs spear, makes every error 
(however impervious its disguise to the eye, however seductive 
its accents, to the ear of innocence and inexperience) " return 
of force to its own likeness." It is metaphysics, that arms the 
philosophical critic, the rightful arbiter of literary desert or 
delinquency, the penal minister of the moral police, with those 
terrific weapons, " like the sword of Michael, from the armoury 
of God," at the sight of which, monarchs tremble on their thrones, 
and tyrants turn pale, in the midst of their guards: Those ter- 
rific weapons, that are faintly typified in classical mythology, by 
the snaky whips and burning wheels of the furies, those non 
fiagrantia, but, surda Jlagella, with which, the executioners of 
moral justice, scourge the blasphemers of truth, the corrupters 
or offenders of taste, the apostates and the foes of freedom, the 
profligate sophists and remorseless tools of power. 

It is from metaphysics, that they borrow the wreath, not 
of laurel, but of amaranth; the chaplets, not from Parnassus, but 
from Paradise, with which they encircle the brows of the bene- 
factors of mankind, and the moral luminaries of the world. 

The modern critic is " the Leviathan of all the creatures 
of metaphysics, he tumbles about his unwieldy bulk, he plays 
and frolics in the ocean, of its more than regal bounty: huge as 
he is, and whilst he lies floating c many a rood,' he is still its crea- 
ture: his ribs, his fins, his whalebone, his blubber, the very spira- 
cles through which he spouts a torrent of brine, against the mag- 
nusvirum doctor, and covers his disciples all over with the spray, 
every thing of him and about him, is from metaphysics. Is it for 
him, to disparage the dignity, to undervalue the bounty, to dis- 
pute the pre-eminence, of this master, and of his master science?" 

The author is aware, that in placing metaphysics in the front 
rank of the knowable, he will excite a grin on the smooth and 
unmeaning faces of the ephemeral coxcombs, who snuff the noi- 



Of Human Knowledge, f»3 

materials for political economy, jurisprudence, and for the 
" summa scientia" the science of " the social order." 

The philosophy of literature is another fair and fertile 
domain, within the sphere of the knowable, which modern 
ingenuity has cultivated with extraordinary success, and in 

some odours, and gap at the garish hues, of the carrion flowers 
that germinate, in the " un weeded garden" of modern literature, 
who are panting in chase of the emperor of Morocco, or sympa- 
thizing in the pangs of the Virtuoso, whose desperate chase, his 
Moorish majesty has eluded: he is aware, that he will perhaps 
ruffle the grave visages of those ministers of the literary police, 
whose anti-Tobyish but imperial sport, it sometimes is, to " break 
those butterflies upon the wheel." 

He fears that he may even provoke a contemptuous glance, 
from those awful arbiters on the tribunals of criticism, " whose 
smile is transport and whose frown is fate" to the candidate for 
literary honours. 

With the most profound contempt for the coxcomb's grin, 
with perfect indifference (unless it should chance to be a good one) 
for the jest of the witling, the sneer or scowl of the worldling, and 
for the very best possible pun, which the pedant, the pedagogue or 
the barrister, can invent, on so happy an occasion for the exercise 
of a talent, in the exercise of which (such is the astonishing per- 
fectibility of modem literature) every driveller, drilled by the 
study of Joe Miller or George Stevens, far surpasses Milton 
and Shakspeare: with all due deference for the authority, and 
apprehensions from the penal jurisdiction, of the judicial award- 
ers of praise or censure to literary desert or delinquency, the 
writer must be allowed to challenge for metaphysics, a front 
rank in the knowable. 

And if indeed, " the best study of mankind be man," and if 
mind be admitted to be the better and nobler part of man, that 
part, in which the dignity and local pre-eminence of his nature 
really consists, metaphysics does challenge and will maintain 
this rank, in the estimation of the wise and good, through all 
succeeding time. 



G4 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

which the modern inquirer, finds few precursors and no 
competitors, in classical antiquity. In the analysis of 
novelty, sublimity, beauty, grandeur, pathos, horror, and 
other affecting qualities, into their elementary principles; 
those principles, from which poetry, eloquence, and imi- 
tative art, derive their mystic attractions, and soul-subdu- 
ing charms: In revealing to the " mind's eye" those mo- 
dels of ideal excellence, the contemplation of which awa- 
kens the aspirations, and tasks the gigantic might, of genius, 
guides the chissel, the plectrum, the pencil and " the pen of 
fire:" In establishing those standards of criticism and taste, 
by the application of which, we detect every latent blemish 
or beauty, eslimate with nicer discrimination, and feel with 
keener sensibility, the comparative degrees of excellence 
and imperfection, in the productions of inventive or imita- 
tive art: above all, in bodying forth the moral standard, the 
truth-tempered talisman, that ascertains the tendency, of 
whatever amuses imagination or excites strong emotion, to 
improve or deprave the moral sentiments and character, to 
exalt or degrade the dignity of human nature: In the develop- 
ment and illustration of these delicate and difficult subjects,, 
the human mind, has ample scope for all its subtlety, inge- 
nuity, and penetration* 

The all-important and sublime science of Theology, too, 
lies within the region of the knowable. 

Every discovery of the natural philosopher, every new 
and brilliant phenomena, which the experimentalist un- 
veils, every link in the chain of cause and effect unravelled 
in the progress of science, every new combination of re- 



Of Human Knowledge, 65 

Gently discovered elements, every new application of re- 
cently discovered laws of matter, designed or applied by 
inventive art to accomplish any useful purpose, exhibit ad- 
ditional evidence not only of the existence of the Creator, 
conservator, governor, and father of the universe, but ad- 
ditional evidences, also, of his goodness, wisdom, and power; 
of those glorious attributes, that make him the natural and 
proper object of the adoration, reverence, and love of 
all intelligent beings: every discovery of this sort, in the 
hands of a skillful theologian, is converted into a powerful 
weapon, offensive as well as defensive, as well for repelling 
attacks on the doctrines of natural and revealed religion, as 
for encountering the stibtile sceptic even on the ground, 
where he deems himself most secure of victory; in the very 
citadel, from whose battlements, he hurls defiance at the 
" defenders of the faith." 

These are sciences, that steadily advance towards per- 
fection, and every advancing step, extends the sphere of 
human knowledge, power, and happiness, and contributes 
to the improvement of government, legislation, education; 
of whatever lays the foundation and erects the superstruc- 
ture of virtuous and accomplished character, national or 
individual, and promotes the dignity of human nature, the 
glory of God and the happiness of his rational creatures 
here or hereafter, in time; or through eternity. 

To what extent are the properties of matter knowable? 

To an extent, to which there is no assignable limit: 
To an extent, sufficient to task the powers of the most 

active and inventive mind, that has ever existed in the hu- 

i 



66 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

man form, according to the usual course of nature: To 
an extent that, for successive milleniums, will sup- 
ply constant and imperishable accessions of knowledge, 
power, and enjoyment: to an extent, vast enough, to pro- 
vide a basis for a fabric of civilization, co-extensive with the 
habitable globe; and embellished by the taste and skill of 
an art, ever adding beauty to the face, and grace to the 
form of nature; and the trophies of a science, constantly 
achieving more astonishing victories, and extending its 
empire, in every direction. 

The only medium, through which we can acquire any 
knowledge of the properties of matter, is sensation: or, in 
other words, the impressions, made by whatever exists- 
externally, on our organs of sense. 

These impressions, may be distributed into three classes: 
First, the impressions made upon our organs of sense, and 
the sensible parts of our bodies, internal and external, by 
whatever is applied for the purpose of growth and nourish- 
ment; or, for the purpose of gratifying appetite, alleviating 
pain, or curing disease: Secondly, the impressions made 
upon our mind through our organs of sense, by the external 
phenomena, spontaneously exhibited to our view: Thirdly, 
the impressions made by the action of external objects on 
each other, artificially disposed in such situations, as to 
evolve phenomena, which we should not otherwise, have 
it in our power to observe. 

The first class of impressions, comprehends whatever 
relates to subsistence, sensual gratification, and the science 
of medicine in all its branches: The second, supplies ma- 



Of Human Knozvledgct 67 

terials for all the different departments of natural history: 
The third, constitutes the foundation, and supplies materials 
for the superstructure, of experimental philosophy, and 
each class of impressions, supplies an inexhaustible fund 
of knowledge. 

These three classes of impressions, constitute all that 
is knowable in relation to external objects: The nature of 
the qualities that excite these impressions, the substance or 
subject in which these qualities inhere, the manner in which 
they excite sensible impressions, and the invisible ties by 
which they are bound together, are unknowable. 

The phenomena by which those impressions are made, 
are connected in an order, that according to our experi- 
ence is uniform, and therefore, probably immutable: the 
order as it is styled, both in common and philosophical 
language of cause and effect. It is only when exhibited in 
this order to our senses, and associated in this order in our 
minds, that we acquire a knowledge of good and evil, and 
power consequently, to obtain and secure the one, to avoid 
and expel the other. It is important, therefore, to inquire, 
whether this relation falls within the region of the knowa- 
ble or unknowable, and if knowable, to what extent it is 
so, and to what extent also it is known. 

On the supposition that Adam, (however perfect his 
senses and faculties may have been,) could only acquire a 
knowledge of external objects as we do, I endeavoured to 
explain in what way, a wish that the sun might rise again 
would be converted into hope, hope into expectation, and 
expectation into a firm belief, that he would re-appear 



68 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

in time future, as he had done in time past. Perceiving 
that all the phenomena, within the rapidly extending range 
of his observation, preserved the same invariable uniformity 
of succession, this belief would acquire additional stability, 
would attach itself as readily to a succession of events, 
recently discovered, as to one that had been long known, 
and would gradually impress a firm conviction, that every 
succession of phenomena throughout the universe, whether 
occurring without or within, was governed by immutable 
laws, or if not immutable, by laws, that operated invariably, 
during very long periods of time. 

From this view of the subject, three conclusions are de- 
ducible, that deserve attention. 

First, human belief in the stability of any particular 
succession of phenomena, is fortified by observing the uni- 
formity of succession in every other instance, that falls un- 
der human observation: a single unequivocal instance (not 
believed to be miraculous,) of irregular succession, would 
shake the stability of this belief to its foundation. 

But secondly, having found in every instance, we have 
been able to analyze, that any apparent irregularity in the 
succession of phenomena, did not proceed from uncertainty, 
in the usual order of succession, from any looseness or con- 
tingency in the catenation of events, but from the secret in- 
terposition of links in the chain, which, from their subtlety, 
escaped the scrutiny of our senses; we deem it most rational 
to account for every apparent irregularity in this way, and 
extend our belief in the principle of uniform antecedence 
and sequence, to every succession of events, whether mo- 



Of Human Knowledge. 69 

mentous or minute, from the revolutions of the heavenly bo- 
dies to the undulation of a wave, from the disruption of an 
earthquake, to the condensation or lapse of a drop of rain* 

Thirdly, any deviation in the succession of events, from 
that order which is conformable to long and uniform expe- 
rience, in time past, is ascribed to the immediate interpo- 
sition of the Almighty mind, suspending or controlling for 
some beneficent purpose, the laws of nature, which he had 
himself established, 

A series of events, of which uniform experience in time 
past has established the order of succession, are said to suc- 
ceed each other according to the relation of cause and ef- 
fect: when our attention is directed to a particular event, 
that which uniformily precedes it, is called the cause, and 
the event we are considering is called the effect: The prin- 
ciple by which they are linked together, is denominated 
causation or efficiency, and in a given series, or part of a 
series, the same event is alternately cause and effect; cause, 
in relation to that which is believed to be immediately sub- 
sequent, and effect, in relation to what immediately precedes, 
or is believed, immediately to precede it. 

The relation of cause and effect so far as it is knowa- 
ble, consists in the invariable precedence and sequence of 
particular events, which, when ascertained, enables man, 
on the appearance of the one, to predict the other, and by 
means of the one, to summon the instant appearance, and 
command the passive obedience and subserviency of the 
other, in the execution of his will. It is in exercising the 
power, with which his knowledge of the relation of cause 



70 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

and effect progressively invests him, that the pre-eminence 
of man over other animals, and of civilized over savage man, 
is most conspicuously manifested. 

The inferiority of Aladdin in intelligence and power, to 
the genius, whom the possession of his magic lamp is con- 
ceived to have enabled him to summon to his aid, was 
scarcely greater, than that of savage man, to an accomplish- 
ed experimental philosopher, in any civilized country: nor 
could Aladdin have been much more astonished and ravish^ 
ed, at the sight of the palaces of diamonds and rubies, and 
the Elysian gardens, that sprung out of nothing at the com- 
mand of the " genius," than the savage would be, at the 
exhibition of the grander, and more astonishing, because 
more unexpected phenomena, which a skilful chymist, as- 
tronomer, optician or electrician, would present to his view. 

The human mind is capable of unravelling and extend- 
ing the chain indefinitely and in every direction; of evolv- 
ing, (by means of accurate observation and artificial aids,) 
ten, or, ten thousand intermediate links, betwixt two, that 
seemed to be contiguous, and not only of adding to the 
length of the chain at either end, but to its extent in every 
lateral and oblique direction. 

Every new discovery of this sort, extends the empire of 
mind over matter, in this quarter of the universe; amplifies 
the range of human knowledge and power; and subjects the 
energies of inanimate matter to the control of sentient and 
intelligent beings. The immense chain of secondary causes, 
depending from the throne, and concatenated by the om- 
nipotence of the Creator, extends in every direction with- 



Of Human Knowledge, 7 i 

out limit and without end, constituting and consolidating the 
conscious and unconscious, the moral and material universe. 

On the extent to which they are capable of comprehend- 
ing and grasping the larger, and the subtlety and minute- 
ness with which they can evolve the finer links in this im- 
mense chain; the original rank of every order of intelligent 
beings, essentially depends: from Gallileo who expounded 
the revolutions of the solar system; to " Uriel," who sits en- 
throned in the central luminary of that system, " regent of 
day," " and compels the reluctant planets to absolve their 
fated rounds of time:" from Milton; to the seraph, who in- 
spired his song! But to return from this digression. 

Thus far the relation of cause and effect is knowable, 
and, I apprehend, no farther: Of causation, if by causation, 
we understand the invisible principle, that binds together the 
successive links in a series of events, that makes one par- 
ticular event to follow another particular event, and makes 
it impossible that any other can follow, we neither know, 
nor can know any thing, 

Aitiology is a science too sublime for man; he possesses 
neither organs nor faculties sufficiently penetrating, to scan 
the essence of substance and the efficiency of cause. 

Those relations amongst the impressions made by ex- 
ternal phenomena, that bind them together in systems of 
physical science, are very different from the relations 
amongst ideas, that constitute mathematical theorems.* The 

* In this part of the essay, the author has endeavoured to 
expose the fallacy of a notion to which the authority of Locke 



72 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

strongest evidence, which the understanding can discover 
of invent, to support the principles of the former, is not only 
different in kind, but greatly inferior in clearness and force, 
to that which the other, spontaneously presents* 

and the specious but superficial ingenuity of Condillac, has 
given currency: the notion, that the elementary principles of 
moral and political philosophy are demonstrable. 

The proof that these principles are not demonstrable, ap- 
proaches, the author apprehends, more nearly to the clearness 
and singleness of demonstrative evidence, than any reasoning 
that can be discovered or invented, to support these principles. 

The attempt to establish the truth of a theorem in geome- 
try, by examining the visible line of the corresponding diagram, 
with a microscope, or, submitting its tangible line to the action 
of chemical agents in a crucible, would scarcely be more pre- 
posterous, than the attempt to demonstrate a matter of fact. 

The notion is not merely erroneous: the error is radically 
malignant. Baffled in its effort to discover moral or political 
axioms, (a pursuit even more visionary than the chase of the 
perpetual motion, or, the elixir of immortality,) the mind be- 
comes predisposed to adopt the monstrous opinion, that mo- 
rality has no foundation in the truth of things: that good and 
evil, virtue and vice, are the result of a sort of instinct, tempera- 
ment, taste, or of specious and inveterate prejudice. 

It is a notion too, that leads directly and almost demonstra- 
bly to atheism. For if moral and political truth be demonstra- 
ble, it must be resolvable into axioms: and if so, the physical 
and moral order of the universe must be self-existent, immuta- 
ble, and eternal: according to this notion, a belief in the creative 
power, controling will, and superintending providence of God, 
would involve a contradiction, would not be erroneous merely, 
but absurd. The attempt to prove the truth of a miracle, would 
be not less irrational than the attempt to refute a mathemati- 
cal proposition. The writer does not mean to contend, or even 



Of Human Knowledge. 73 

In a chain of mathematical reasoning, we not only con- 
nect erery preceding with every subsequent link, but com- 
prehend in what way they are necessarily connected; why 
a particular deduction is drawn from the premises, and no 
other can be drawn: we perceive distinctly that the con- 
nexion is independent of place and time, must exist as 
we perceive it throughout the intellectual universe, existed 
thus before time began, and will exist thus, when time shall 
" be no more. 1 ' 

But in a chain of phenomena, arranged in the order of 
cause and effect, we perceive no principle that necessarily 
binds any one event to any other, we can assign no reason 
why a particular event succeeds another, and no other can 
succeed, we have no proof of the immutability of the con- 
nection: We know only, that it has subsisted for a given 
time, in the quarter of the universe which we inhabit, but 
we have no evidence that it always has subsisted even here, 
much less that it must subsist, every where, and at all times: 
On the contrary, we can distinctly conceive, that a time 
was, when this connection did not subsist, and that the time 
may be again, when it will be dissolved. 

To the human mind, therefore, this connection appears 
to be arbitrary and separable. As difference is best illus- 
trated by comparison, I will enumerate the principal dif- 
ferences, betwixt mathematical and probable reasoning. 

to insinuate, nor does he believe, or even suspect, that the abet- 
tors of this notion, were aware of these inferences: but he begs 
the intelligent reader to reflect, whether these inferences, if 
this notion be admitted, are not, unavoidable. 

E 



74 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

The first time the evidence of a mathematical proposi- 
tion, presented itself to the mind of Adam, his conviction 
of its truth and of the immutability of its truth, would be as 
perfect, as it could be, after the most careful and repeated 
revision: But it would be only after observing the alterna- 
tion of day and night, or, the regular recurrence of any 
other physical phenomena for a considerable length of 
time, that he would anticipate their recurrence in time fu- 
ture with confidence, and begin to regard a particular suc- 
cession of events as a part of the established order of na- 
ture, and this anticipation (unless we believe that he had 
access to supernatural sources of information) could scarcely 
even in the course of an antediluvian term of existence, 
arrive at absolute certainty, or reach the degree of assur- 
ance with which we now anticipate the recurrence of phe- 
nomena, in time future, in the order in which they have 
occurred in time past. 

We can readily imagine that Adam, by exerting an 
intellectual penetration and power, as far superior to the 
genius of Newton or La Place, as their faculties were, in 
their maturity, superior to those of a child, may have grasp- 
ed (without the accession of new impressions from external 
objects) in a few years, months, days, hours, or even at a 
glance, those sublime conclusions of transcendental geo- 
metry, which the human understanding in his fallen de- 
scendants, for nearly six thousand years, has been toiling 
to reach, by the progressive labours of many successive 
generations, and the united efforts of millions of minds: But 
we cannot imagine, that Adam could have advanced a sin- 



Of Human Knowledge. 75 

gle step in physical science, without new impressions from 
external objects; without observing phenomena, arranged 
in the order of cause and effect, as they were sponta- 
neously presented to his view, or, by artificially disposing 
external objects, so as to detect that relation, in cases, 
where it was not spontaneously disclosed. Adam may have 
become a geometrician in an hour, but let the strength of 
his intellectual faculties and the acuteness and sensibility 
of his perceptive powers, have been as perfect as possible, 
(unless we believe that a knowledge of external phenomena 
was imparted to him by inspiration) some time must have 
elapsed, before he could become a naturalist or a chymist. 

If we imagine Newton or La Place to be immured in a 
subterranean cell, and supplied with all the physical means 
of healthful existence, and with mathematical instruments, 
we can imagine also, that they might spin from their brains, 
(as does the spider from its entrails,) a complete system of 
geometry, algebra, and fluxions, but without constant ac- 
cess to external objects, we cannot conceive even of the 
possibility of their advancing a single step, in physical 
science. 

From the definitions and postulates, we can deduce the 
simplest theorems and problems, and advance from these, 
to more complex propositions, in infinitum, by directing 
our attention to relations amongst ideas with which the 
mind is previously furnished, by deducing by a process 
purely intellectual and internal, unknown from known 
truths: But we cannot from any two known, or from any 
number of known properties of any external object, (gold 



76 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

for intance,) infer an unknown property: No comparison 
or mental analysis of our ideas of the known properties 
of gold, will suggest the idea of a property not known: 
We cannot from its weight, colour, or malleability, infer 
its solubility in nitro-muriatic acid, previous to observing 
its actual solution in this acid, nor can we from this quate- 
rion of properties, infer a fifth. 

Secondly, in tracing the steps of a mathematical de- 
monstration, we not only perceive that the conclusion is true, 
but that it is necessarily and immutably true: but although 
by attentively considering external phenomena, we discover 
that one event uniformly precedes and another uniformly 
follows, and arrange an indefinitely extended and diver- 
sified series of events in this order, in our systems of physi- 
cal science, and anticipate with unshaken confidence, the 
repetition of this series in the same order, in time future, 
yet we can neither by observation nor experiment, sensa- 
tion or reflection, nor by any intellectual or physical pro- 
cess, discover or invent any reason, for this precedence 
and sequence; or, any proof, that the connection is neces- 
sary and immutable. 

Thirdly, in arranging a series of propositions in the 
order of mathematical demonstration, we certainly know 
that no intermediate link has escaped our attention, and 
that no link can be inserted other than those, that have 
been evolved: But in arranging a series of phenomena in 
the order of cause and effect, we can never be certain, that 
the parts of the series apparently contiguous and immedi- 
ately connected, are really so: nay, it will always remain 



Of Human Knowledge, 77 

eminently probable, that an indefinite series of finer links, 
may be interspersed betwixt two, which after the severest 
scrutiny by our senses, (aided by every instrument that in- 
ventive art can furnish,) may appear to be immediately and 
intimately connected. 

Fourthly, therefore, as mathematical truths are esta- 
blished by deducing a priori from precise definitions, theo- 
rems and problems that resolve themselves into principles 
essentially elementary, (infinite as mathematical science is in 
the number and variety of the conclusions which it involves) 
every particular problem, or theorem, may be conceived to 
begin in the definitions and terminate in the axioms: But 
there being no principle, susceptible of precise definition, 
from which physical truths can be deduced, nor any axi- 
oms, into which they can be resolved, every series or suc- 
cession of phenomena, however limited, may involve possi- 
bly an infinite succession of unperceived and imperceptible 
intermediate events.* 



* Mathematical propositions may be compared to the radii 
of a circle which, although infinite in number, yet do all com- 
mence in the centre and terminate in the circumference: Phy* 
sical science may be compared to a chain, extending intermi- 
nably in every direction, and composed of links that are subdi- 
vided into infinitesimal minuteness, till they become like the 
meshes of the net in which Vulcan entangled Mars and Venus, 
so exquisitely exile, that even the eye of a divinity, could not 
discern them, yet so indissoluble, that the arm of Mars himself, 
could not rend them asunder. 

Of this immense chain, man is capable of grasping a portion 
indefinitely extensive, and of unravelling the finer intermediate 



73 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

In what then according to these explanations, does 
physical truth consist? 

Theoretically and absolutely, in a coincidence betwixt 
the order in which impressions are made upon our senses, 
(and the order consequently in which the ideas they suggest 
are arranged and associated in our minds,) and that in which 
the phenomena, by which those impressions are made and 
those ideas suggested, succeed each other, according to the 
relation of cause and effect; or, if this coincidence be unat- 
tainable, in a continual approximation towards it. 

The material universe is for ever in motion: A series 
of phenomena, alternately, antecedent and consequent, of 
which we can discover neither the commencement nor the 
termination, and betwixt the successive parts or links of 
which, we can detect no necessary connection, follow each 
other with invariable uniformity, and amidst the incessant 
vicissitude and fluctuation, to which every individual ex- 
istence is subject, preserves an immutable order, and every 
where re-produce and sustain "all the fair variety of things." 

In this boundless theatre, (boundless in extent, variety, 
and duration,) man is partly a spectator, and partly an 

links to a degree of minuteness, indefinitely small. To the 
extent to which he can grasp the larger, and the minuteness 
to which he can evolve the smaller links, there is no assignable 
limit. But physical science must always be imperfect, in three 
respects. The chain of ideas must want commencement, termi- 
nation, and connexion. There are no definitions in which it 
can commence, no axioms into which it can be resolved: no 
intuitive certainty by which its links are bound together. 



Of Human Knowledge, 79 

agent; and when duly instructed, disciplined and accom- 
plished, becomes neither an idle spectator, nor an insig- 
nificant agent. 

But sensation is the only inlet of information, the only 
medium of intercourse with the external universe, appro- 
priated to his use, in this sublunary region, and at this in- 
cipient and probationary stage of his existence. 

It is also by means of sensation only, that those facul- 
ties and energies, to the unknown and unknowable subject 
of which, we give the name of mind, become the subjects 
of consciousness. 

When external phenomena, produce a series of impres- 
sions, on the outward organs, and when the correspondent 
ideas are associated in the memory, in an order that coin- 
cides^ or, approaches to coincidence, with the order, in 
which these phenomena invariably succeed each other; in 
other words succeed each other, according to the relation 
of cause and effect; such a train of impressions or ideas, 
reflects, " veluti in speculo^ the truth of things, so far as 
it is accessible to the human mind. 

But phenomena are not originally and spontaneously 
presented to our senses, nor are the corresponding ideas 
consequently associated in our minds, according to the re- 
lation of cause and effect. 

Partial resemblance, faint and fanciful analogy, acci- 
dental proximity or coincidence of time and place, and 
imaginary resemblance are often the only connecting prin- 
ciples, amongst our ideas concerning external phenomena. 
In a train of ideas connected together, by those separable, 



80 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

arbitrary, and casual ties, the order of succession amongst 
external phenomena, which the relation of cause and effect 
has established, will be continually violated, and error will 
necessarily prevail. 

There are only two ways, by which we can ascertain 
the order in which phenomena succeed each other, accords 
ing to the relation of cause and effect: First, by marking 
and recording the invariable succession of phenomena, as it 
is spontaneously and progressively presented to our view in 
particular instances: Secondly, by placing material substan- 
ces, " by means of artificial instruments and operations," 
in such a situation, as to evolve the finer links of the chain, 
and detect the relation of cause and effect, in a multitude 
of instances, where it is not spontaneously exhibited, and 
would have remained otherwise undiscovered and inscru- 
table. 

The first, is demonstrated philosophical observation, the 
second, philosophical experiment. 

It has been in consequence of arranging their ideas 
respecting the phenomena of the material world, according 
to the results of observation and experiment, in other words, 
by substituting the relation of cause and effect, in place of 
resemblance, fanciful analogy and other casual relations, 
that the modern systems of physics, have so far eclipsed 
the ancient, in verisimilitude and value. 

When, for example, the various phenomena produced 
by heat, dilatation, liquefaction, aeriform elasticity, &c. are 
presented to the senses, by means of observation and ex- 
periment, in the order in which they succeed each other, 



Of Human Knctzvledge* 81 

according to the relation of cause and effect, and the cor- 
responding ideas are in that order associated in the mind, 
the order of nature is unfolded, and the truth of things re- 
presented: When on the contrary, our ideas concerning 
the phenomena produced by heat, are suggested by con- 
founding its effects, in consequence of partial resemblance, 
with those, produced by some other physical agent; or 
blending with our ideas of the phenomena it produces, a 
variety of phenomena produced at the same time and place, 
by different physical agents; such a chain of ideas, how- 
ever ingeniously connected and beautifully burnished, is 
no better than a rope of sand. 

The one train of ideas not only corresponds with the 
truth of things, but so far as that train extends, enables 
man to reproduce at pleasure the phenomena, subjects the 
physical agent to his control, and extends his empire in 
the world he inhabits: Every such newly discovered train 
of impressions, produces a good of which the value or 
amount, may be considered, as the product of the number 
of human beings then existing, or that may afterwards exist, 
throughout the civilized world, who participate the good, 
multiplied by the quantity of gratification, it may afford 
them, in other words, produces an incalculable good. 

The other train of ideas, having no foundation in the 
truth of things, cannot enable man to reproduce or control at 
pleasure, the phenomena which it professes to analyse 
and arrange; and far from extending his knowledge or 
power over the material world, arrests the progress of 
both, and of all impediments to their progress, becomes 



82 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

the most intractable: Intractable too, exactly in proportion, 
to the genius of the mind, that conceives, develops, embel- 
lishes, and defends it: It produces an evil, of which the 
amount may be regarded, as the product of the length of 
time, during which it prevails, and of the number of active 
and ingenious minds, it entangles in the maze of error, mul- 
tiplied by the vice, and misery, it entails on each; an evil, 
the amount of which, is incalculable. 

If we compare a mind, in which every train of ideas 
concerning the phenomena of the material universe, per- 
fectly coincides with the order in which the phenomena 
succeed each other, according to the relation of cause and 
effect; with a mind, in which the corresponding trains of 
ideas, are bound together by casual, mutable and arbitrary 
associations; we shall be surprised to find, that we are 
contrasting the omniscience of a God, with the imagination 
of a poet, the omnipotence and beneficence of truth, with 
the impotence and malignity of error. 

This analysis of the relation of cause and effect, (as it 
respects the phenomena of the material universe, which 
are the objects of observation,) is alike applicable to those 
internal operations, which are the subjects of consciousness. 
We experience nothing, and can discover nothing, after 
the nicest scrutiny and the most profound reflection, but 
the uniform antecedence of one event and sequence of ano- 
ther: In every instance the connecting principle is undis- 
covered and inscrutable. 

The sun has uniformly risen, certain substances have 
uniformly afforded nourishment to the human body in its 



Of Human Knowledge. 83 

sound and healthy state; the mind has uniformly exerted 
a certain control over the movements of the body, and over 
its own ideas; certain actions, moral qualities and characters, 
have uniformly excited approbation and disapprobation, 
love and hatred, particular political institutions have tended 
to improve, and others to deprave human nature, in time 
past, we confidently anticipate the recurrence of these 
phenomena, in the same order, in time future: But by what 
principle, in any of these instances, or in any of the innu- 
merable cases, that belong to these classes of phenomena, 
the uniformly preceding, is connected with the uniformly 
subsequent event, is not only unknown; but without a ra- 
dical change in the constitution of human nature, without 
the possession of finer organs, and higher intellectual pow- 
ers, must be forever unknowable. 

In what respect then it may be asked, do the ideas of 
the profoundest philosopher, differ from those of the sciolist, 
of the most superficial observer of any class of natural* 
phenomena? 

In two circumstances only: First, the chain of ideas in 
the mind of the philosopher, is more extended, and secondly, 
it contains a greater number of finer links, than the corres- 
ponding chain, in the mind of an ordinary man. In the 
mind of the philosopher, the chain of ideas, not only pro- 
ceeds to a greater extent in every direction, but betwixt 
two links, immediately connected in the mind of an ordinary 
observer, an indefinite series of finer links, may be inter- 
posed, in the mind of the philosopher. 



#4 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

A man wholly destitute of scientific knowledge, perceives 
that if fire be applied to fuel, it will burn: In his mind the idea 
of the application of fire is immediately connected with the 
combustion of the fuel: The chymist unravels the chain, 
detects the decomposition of the atmospheric air, the con- 
sequent evolution of light and heat, and the union of oxygen 
with the burning body: He extends the chain, and not only 
discovers the sources, from which the gases that compose 
atmospheric air proceed, but ascertains also, the properties 
of the elements, into which the burning body resolves itself; 
and by these discoveries, is able to predict and produce a 
variety of phenomena, in the highest degree curious, 
beautiful, and useful: but with regard to the principles, 
that bind these phenomena together, the rudest savage and 
the most enlightened sage, the infantine and the mature 
mind, nay, man himself, and the most imperfect and insig- 
nificant thing that lives or moves in ocean, air, or earth, 
are equally ignorant: It is so also, in regard to internal 
subjects of consciousness. 

A school-boy of fifteen, endowed with an ordinary 
share of capacity, perceives that the angles at the base of 
an isosceles triangle, are necessarily equal; is certain that 
the sun will rise to-morrow, and that if he deliberately de- 
ceives his parent or his instructor, he will excite their dis- 
approbation and forfeit their confidence, and subject him- 
self to the torment of remorse and self contempt: the phi- 
losopher, unravels and extends the chain, analyzes mathe- 
matical reasoning into definitions, postulates, and axioms, 
contrasts demonstrative reasoning with certainty, and cer- 



Of Human Knowledge. 85 

tainty with the various shades of probability: this analysis, 
ascertains the various kinds and degrees of evidence; the 
proper subjects and impassable boundaries of human know- 
ledge; draws the line betwixt the knowable and the un- 
knowable, and illustrates the methods by which the inves- 
tigation of the knowable may be most successfully pursued: 
but, the nature of that subtle intellectual being, that per- 
forms all these operations, or, in what way it is acted on, 
by different sorts and shades of evidence, the philosopher 
is as unable to explain, as the youth of fifteen years of age. 
Every human creature, who deserves the name of man, 
knows, that certain forms of government, codes of law, and 
methods of education, have a tendency to promote, and 
others to counteract the improvement and happiness of a 
political community: the moral philosopher, unravels the 
ehain; develops the customs, manners, opinions, distribu- 
tion of property, prevailing motives, and modes of action, 
that in time past have sprung from various forms of govern- 
ment, codes of law, and methods of education, and may be 
expected to arise from their continuance, or, re-establish- 
ment in time future: but here, as before, nothing is per- 
ceived, or can be detected, but the uniform antecedence of 
one event, and sequence of another. 

And what farther, except to gratify a morbid, idle, and 
presumptuous curiosity, need we desire to know? 

Is it not enough, that by this knowledge, we are able, not 
only to foresee and predict the operation of the established 
laws of material and moral nature, in time future, but to 
employ these laws as passive, yet prompt and powerful 
ministers, to obey our behests and execute our designs? 



86 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

To the capacities we inherit from nature, for acquiring 
this knowledge, and to its progressive augmentation, we are 
indebted, for all that establishes the pre-eminence and do- 
minion of man, in the world he inhabits; all that exalts the 
condition and character of civilized above those of savage 
man; all that lifts Homer, and Aristotle, and Demosthenes, 
and Archimedes, and Lycurgus, and Scipio, and Milton, and 
Newton, and Henry IV, and Howard, and Charles Fox, 
and Brindley, above the level of the millions of human be- 
ings, who " Draw nutrition, propagate and rot." 

Js it not enough, although we hear not the voice that 
enacts, nor perceive the hand that executes, the established 
laws of physical and moral nature; that their instrumentality, 
in producing pleasure and pain, happiness or misery, is 
manifested to our senses; and that by the knowledge thus 
obtained, we are enabled, progressively, to combine and 
perpetuate the elements and instruments of good; to remove, 
counteract, or extinguish, those of evil; and to find, at the 
same time, ample and endless scope, for the exercise and 
expansion of our intellectual powers? 

Is it not enough, that these mighty laws, established by 
the omniscient wisdom, and maintained by the omnipotence, 
of the Creator, operate, each in its appropriate sphere, with 
undeviating uniformity, and with an energy, incapable of 
pause, remission, or decay? 

Is it not enough, that every link in the immense chain 
of secondary causes, (so far as its links lie within the ken 
of human intelligence, or the grasp of human power,) is 
adapted to develop, expand, and mature the faculties of the 



Of Human Knowledge. 87 

human mind; and that in unravelling, (by the steady and 
strenuous exertion of their best faculties,) the intricate 
concatenation, on which this adaptation depends; the pro- 
gressive happiness, intelligence, greatness and glory of 
intelligent beings, consist? 

Is it not enough, that these mighty laws, (amidst the con- 
stant mutation, perishableness and evanescence of every in- 
dividual existence,) preserve their original simplicity, unity 
and energy, unmixed and unimpaired, bind with " adaman- 
tine chains," sustain with " Atlantaean shoulders" the im- 
mutable order and stupendous fabric, of the moral and ma- 
terial universe? 

Why tantalize curiosity, or, strain and overtask our 
faculties, in abortive efforts, to scan the essence of sub- 
stance, and the efficiency of cause? Subjects palpably 
and impenetrably, impervious to the senses and the mind of 
man. 

" What means this man, now upwards will he soar, 
" And little less than angel, would be more." 

Better far, than such " vain wisdom and false philosophy ," 
better far, and far more suitable to the nature of frail and 
fallible humanity, the adoring faith, that refers the laws 
of the universe to the Fiat, and recognizes, in all the opera- 
tions of these laws, the finger of Omnipotence, that regards 

" All as but parts of one stupendous whole, 
" Whose body nature is, and God the soul. 5 * 

As the terms, mind, matter, substance, essence, efficiency* 
causation, have relation to subjects that lie beyond the re- 



38 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

gion of the knowable, it may be asked: ought they not to 
be regarded, as an unmeaning and mischievous jargon, and 
as such, banished from our lips, and expunged from our vo- 
cabulary? I reply, by no means: — Whatever is knowable, 
is indissolubly connected with what is unknowable, nor is 
it possible to designate and distinguish, accurately, things 
known and knowable, without the use of terms, that refer to 
things unknown and unknowable: X and Y, the symbols of 
unknown, are as necessary in Algebra, as A, B, and C, the 
symbols of known quantities. 

Although we know not, nor can ever know " till this cor- 
ruptible shall put on incorruption" what constitutes mind, 
immortal and immaterial mind, (independent of the internal 
energies and feelings of which we are conscious,) yet, as we 
are irresistibly impelled to believe, that they co-exist and 
inhere in something, and cannot discourse, or even think, 
about these energies and feelings, without reference to this 
unknown and unknowable being, it is necessary that we 
should have a distinct appellation for it. 

Although we know not, nor can we ever know what 
constitutes matter, independent of the impressions which 
its qualities make upon our senses, yet as we are irresistibly 
impelled to believe, that these qualities, or, exciting causes 
of sensible impressions co-exist and co-here in something; 
and are unable to discourse or even to think about those 
impressions without continual reference to this unknown 
and unknowable entity, the term matter, is not less indispen- 
sable, than the terms expressive of the impressions, which 
it makes upon us. 



Of Human Knowledge, 89 

Although we perceive not, nor can ever perceive, any 
connecting principle amongst phenomena, internal or ex- 
ternal, moral or material, yet as we are irresistibly led to be- 
lieve that a connecting principle exists, and cannot discourse 
or even think about those phenomena, without constantly 
referring to it; the word efficiency, or some other term of 
similar import, is necessary for the ordinary, as well as for 
the philosophical purposes of language. 

Material qualities, as they are manifested to our senses, 
either exist in combinations, that remain for a considerable 
length of time unchanged, or they exist in ceaseless muta- 
tion and succession: It is all-important that thi r distinction 
should be marked, and it is marked, by employing the term 
substance, to express material qualities in a state of perma- 
nent combination. 

Terms expressive of things unknowable, are therefore 
necessary and useful; nor can any injury or inconvenience 
arise from such terms, if they are used with a due know- 
ledge and constant recollection of their genuine import; and 
do not introduce into our minds erroneous ideas, concerning 
the proper subjects and appointed limits, of human know- 
ledge. 

The preceding analysis of the relation of cause and 
effect, will enable us to comprehend clearly, the foundation 
of certain and probable, as contra-distinguished from de- 
monstrative, reasoning. 

When a particular event, has invariably occurred in 
time past, we anticipate with certainty, its invariable re- 
currence in time future. Thus we are certain that every 



90 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

human being will die, because we learn from observation, 
from the testimony of all around us, from history and from 
tradition, that every human being who has been born within 
little more than a century of the present time, has died. 
We have this additional evidence of the mortality of man; 
that, of the almost infinite number of human beings, who have 
lived in time past, during nearly six thousand years, there ex- 
ists not one, whose life cannot be proved to have commenced, 
within a hundred and twenty or thirty years, of the present 
time: all, therefore, who existed previously, must have died, 
or disappeared from the earth. But although we are cer- 
tain, that all the human beings that now exist, or may here- 
after exist, must die; yet the time when, the place where, 
the mode in which, any human being that now exists, or 
may hereafter exist, will die, is uncertain. 

In time past all men have died; but the duration of their 
lives, the time, place, and mode of their death, have been 
almost infinitely various. Absolutely, all those circum- 
stances are as certain, as the mortality of the individual, 
and to an intelligent being, who had completely unravelled 
the chain of events, their certainty would be as readily dis- 
coverable; but relatively to the knowledge of any human 
being that now exists, relatively to the stock of knowledge, 
accumulated by the experience of past ages, these circum- 
stances, are almost infinitely uncertain. 

All events in time future, thus relatively uncertain, are 
the subjects of probable reasoning, and in determining on 
what side, or, in what degree, probabilities preponderate, 
the triumph of the probable reasoner consists. 



Of Human Knowledge. 91 

It is in relation to such subjects, that scientific know- 
ledge and skill, differ from common sense. That John 
must die, all men know; but how much rare and curious 
knowledge must the man possess, who determines the pro- 
bable duration of John's life, in the different situations in 
which he may be placed, or, the probable termination of 
a disease of rare recurrence, and full of eontra-indicants. 

It is the sublime office of mathematical and experi- 
mental science, not only to enlarge on every side the boun- 
daries of the known, by constant and successful inroads on 
the knowable; but to enlarge also, the narrow but absolute 
dominion of certainty, over the contiguous provinces in 
the almost illimitable region of probability. 

How many grand phenomena and curious laws of na- 
ture, unknown a century ago to all, are now known and 
familiar even to the vulgar! 

How many, that were probable merely, are reduced to 
certainty! 

In how many instances, do the probabilities, formerly 
in equipoise, with regard to a plurality of different events 
in time future, now decidedly preponderate, on the side 
of one! 

From this analysis of the relation of cause and effect, on 
which the stable and magnificent fabric of physical science 
rests, the following important conclusions are deducible. 

First, from this analysis, we derive one of the strongest a 
posteriori proofs, (perhaps the strongest a posteriori proof,) 
of the existence of a Deity, that human reason can discover 
or invent: if the phenomena of the material universe, (like 



92 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

the steps of a mathematical demonstration,) were necessarily 
and immutably connected, it would be unreasonable to look 
beyond the phenomena, for the efficient cause of their con- 
catenation, in the order of cause and effect: but as the suc- 
cession of events, does not appear to be necessarily con- 
nected, we are irresistibly led to infer, that the order in 
which they succeed each other, has been established and 
appointed by an omniscient, and, consequently, omnipotent 
being: and that every indication of harmony and order, 
every tendency to produce and diffuse happiness, which the 
universe displays, is not only a shining evidence of the ex- 
istence of the Deity, but an evidence also, of the divine 
attributes, that claim the adoration, love, and worship, of 
all his rational creatures. 

Nothing can be more beautiful to the intellectual eye, 
than a chain of mathematical reasoning, proceeding from 
the simplest principles to the most complicated conclusions; 
nothing more admirable or beneficent, than their practical 
applications: but no theologian, would dream of building on 
this foundation, an argument in favour of the existence of 
God, or, concerning the nature of the divine attributes; be- 
cause the relations on w T hich mathematical truth depends, 
are essentially immutable and eternal, and necessarily in- 
dependent of the will of any intelligent being. If the con- 
nexion in the chain of physical causes and effects, were 
equally necessary and immutable, the doctrine of final 
causes, w T ould be an unintelligible jargon. 

Had any impious impostor, even in the most barbarous 
age, in exhibiting claims to a divine mission, on the ground 



Of Human Knowledge. 93 

of miracle, declared " that he would, by supernatural 
power, make all the angles of a triangle equal to three right 
angles;" his pretensions would have staggered the faith of 
his most infatuated and devoted votary: Far from requir- 
ing penetration and genius to prove the falsity, it would 
have been easy for common sense, to demonstrate the ab- 
surdity, of his pretensions. 

Farther, as this order could have been established by the 
Creator, for the purpose solely, of promoting the progres- 
sive improvement and happiness of conscious beings; it is 
reasonable also to believe, that by the steady, strenuous, and 
successful exertion of their faculties, to interpret this order, 
and by converting every discovery of the laws of nature, 
(which observation on experiment may unfold,) into an in- 
strument for advancing the dignity and happiness of human 
nature; his rational creatures act conformably to the divine 
will, exhibit the most acceptable and unequivocal demon- 
strations of their piety to God, and co-operate in executing 
the beneficent designs of Divine Providence, in this quarter 
of the universe.* 



* It is remarkable, that the very argument on which the 
sceptic and the atheist, have erected the battery of infidelity; the 
very battlement, on which they have planted their heaviest ar- 
tillery, and stationed their most skilful engineers, is the firm- 
est foundation, on which philosophy can rest its faith, in the 
truth of natural religion, its belief, in the existence and attri- 
butes of God. From the principle, (and the arch-sceptic has 
established its truth by incontrovertible evidence,) that the con- 
nexion of cause and effect is arbitrary and separable, it fol- 
lows, that the order of succession must have been chosen, 



94 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

Secondly, although the human mind can never reach 
absolute certainty, that the real order in which material 
phenomena succeed each other, has been in a single, instance, 

appointed, and ordained, as certainly, as that the arrangement of 
material parts in an engine or machine, must have been con- 
trived and constructed, by the inventor and artist. From this ar- 
gument, therefore, we not only infer the prior, independent, and 
eternal existence of a mind sufficiently benevolent, wise and 
powerful, to have arranged this infinite series of events, in their 
actual order; but the beneficent ends, also, they are evidently 
fitted, and consequently intended, to accomplish: infer, in other 
words, the existence of a mind, eternal, benevolent, omniscient, 
omnipotent, and omnipresent. 

According to this reasoning, divine benevolence, must have 
prompted omnipotence, which is necessarily connected, or more 
properly identified with omniscience, to create the material and 
moral universe, in the established order of cause and effect; and, 
in the uniform antecedence and sequence of particular events, 
the omnipresence of the Creator is ever active, ever felt. 

In the language of a Pagan poet, 

" Mens agitat molem, magno se corpore miscet:" 

or in the sublimer language of Pope, 

" AH are but parts of one stupendous whole, 
Whose body nature is, and God the soul:" 

or, in the sublimest language that ever proceeded from mortal 
lips — 

" In God we live, and move, and have our being." 

The writer will farther remark, that no department of hu- 
man knowledge, probably, has been more assiduously and suc- 
cessfully cultivated, within the last century, than the philoso- 
phy of the human mind: the advances that have been made in 
this department, would be perceived and acknowledged by all 



Of Human Knowledge. 95 

ascertained; inasmuch, as an indefinite series of events may 
be interposed betwixt two, which, after the most elaborate 
scrutiny, to which our senses and faculties, (assisted by 
every artificial and scientific auxiliary,) are competent, may 
escape human observation; yet in every instance, in which 

competent inquirers, but for the sceptical and anti-religious con- 
clusions which some of the most eminent modern metaphy- 
sicians, have deduced from their principles and speculations: 
The deduction of these conclusions, has not only brought these 
principles into disrepute, but has created in pious minds an in- 
superable disinclination, to admit their truth, or, even to exa- 
mine their evidence. 

It has been often found, however, in the progress of inquiry 
and controversy, that the principle from which the sceptical or 
anti-religious conclusion was deduced, was not only true, and 
a new and important truth, but that the conclusion was illogi- 
cally deduced. 

It has even been found, that correct reasoning, led to con- 
clusions from these principles, not different merely, but oppo- 
site; that the very ground, on which the infidel had erected his 
battery, contained in its bosom materials, which, like the unex- 
pected and irresistible eruption of subterranean fire, devoured 
or consumed, both the engines and the engineers. 

Nor can this circumstance surprise any sincere and intelli- 
gent believer. There must exist the most perfect harmony, 
betwixt the dispensations of Divine Providence, as they are 
manifested in this world, to the view of enlightened reason, and 
in the world to come, as they are unfolded by revelation. He, 
therefore, who successfully investigates and develops any of the 
laws of nature, however sceptical his opinions, however hostile 
his intentions, with regard to religion may be; must contribute 
to establish its truth, and to propagate a faith in its doctrines. 

It may seem strange and paradoxical, that a sincere sceptic 
should first discover, and clearly develop, and that a sincere 
christian, should zealously oppose, the truth of a principle, the 



96 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

the order of nature has been so far ascertained, as to enable 
us from the appearance of one event, to predict another; or, 
by means of one, to summon the appearance and employ 
the instrumentality of others, in the execution of our de- 
signs, (however numerous and important, the unknown and 
to us unknowable, intermediate events may be,) a know- 
ledge of the relation of cause and effect, sufficient for the 
purposes, both of speculation and action, of theory and prac- 
tice, has been obtained. 

Thirdly, as a perfect coincidence, betwixt the order in 
which the phenomena of the material universe really suc- 
ceed each other, with that, in which the ideas respecting 
these phenomena, are arranged and associated; and a co-ex- 
tension of the series of ideas, with the infinite series of events, 
would constitute, so far as physical science is concerned, 
the absolute perfection of an intelligent being; so a con- 
tinual assymptotical approximation to this coincidence and 
co-extension, (without the possibility of ever reaching 
either,) must constitute the most genial element, and the most 
delightful and beneficent employment, of every order of 
intelligent beings, endow r ed with faculties susceptible of 

knowledge of which, establishes on a firm basis, the fundamen- 
tal doctrines of natural religion. 

Yet this strange spectacle, is actually presented to our view, 
in Dr. Beattie's attack (in his essay on the Immutability of Truth,) 
on Hume's principle of necessary connexion. It is fortunate 
for the cause, that Beattie espoused, but most unfortunate for his 
reputation as a philosopher, that truth is immutable. It is finely 
observed by Burke, that " the genuine disciples of Truth are 
careless who conducts them, provided she be the leader" 



Of Human Knowledge. 97 

progressive improvement: This, would seem, indeed, to be 
one of the principal ends, which the admirable faculties, 
the accumulating knowledge, the rapidly increasing num- 
ber, the widely extended and ever extending empire, of ra- 
tional beings, in this quarter of the universe; were by their 
Creator intended and destined to accomplish. 

Fourthly: As in any actual or conceivable stage of in- 
tellectual improvement, the physical science of man must 
be infinitely distant, from a coincidence with the order and 
co-extension with the series of external phenomena; it be- 
hooveth all who labour to increase the stock of human 
knowledge, and those more especially, who occupy the 
van of inquiry, (and are for a season the idols and models 
of the most intelligent of their contemporaries,) to frame 
systems and hypotheses with great caution: to regard the 
most accurate and extensive induction of particulars, as 
but a part, and an infinitely small part too, of the system 
of the universe; and incapable of being analyzed into its 
elementary principles, without tracing its connexion with 
the other parts of that immense system: as the small but 
ever-expanding circle, that bounds the sensible horizon, of 
progressive science, and not a segment of that infinitely- 
extended, all-comprehending circle, in which omniscience 
beholds, in the light of eternal truth, whatever " lives, or, 
moves, or, has its being" in the universe: as an artificial 
clue, to guide the inquirer, who " without the sure guess 
of well-practised feet" attempts to disentangle the maze of 
new and intricate phenomena, and aid memory also in 
recording the results of philosophical investigation; and to 



98 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

be dropped and thrown aside, as soon as we discover the 
path of nature. 

Fifthly: As the phenomena of the material world, are 
infinite, and capable of being presented to the senses 
progressively, and associated in the mind of man, in an 
order, that approaches nearer and nearer to the original 
order, and embraces a constantly enlarging portion of the 
original series; physical science, affords scope for an im- 
provement, to which no boundaries can be assigned: And 
as the three great physical discoveries, the press, the mag- 
net and gun-powdery the firess, by facilitating the general 
circulation of knowledge, previously and immemorially 
monopolised by a few opulent minds; The magnet, cou- 
pled with the improvements, in ship-building, by enabling 
civilized man, to explore every nook and corner of the 
habitable globe, and provide for human nature wherever 
it is found, or, can be introduced, the means of happiness 
and progressive improvement; and the invention of gun- 
powder, by not only protecting civilized nations from 
the desolating inroads and overwhelming irruptions, of 
savage and barbarous hordes, but arming civilized maa 
with absolute power, over the lives and destinies, of his 
savage brethren: as these great inventions, promise to 
secure science and civilization, from the recurrence of those 
periods of long eclipse, and locally of total extinction, 
which it is the melancholy office of ancient history to re- 
cord; we are permitted to indulge a hope, that we at length 
hail the full dawn of a science, destined to shine without 
eclipse or sunset, till " time shall be no more," and have 



Of Human Knowledge. 9i) 

laid the basis of a civilization that has no geographical 
boundaries, but the habitable parts of the terraqueous 
globe. 

Sixthly: As the principles, by which the phenomena of 
the material universe are connected, the substance in which 
they inhere, the manner in which they are perceived by the 
mediation of sensible impressions, and the nature of the intel- 
lectual being, that perceives these impressions, are not only 
unknown but unknowable, placed by the Creator of the uni- 
verse beyond the sphere of human intelligence; all attempts 
to penetrate these inscrutable mysteries ought to be re- 
garded not as irrational and unprofitable merely, but as 
impious ; as a new and sacrilegious attempt, to pluck " for- 
bidden fruit" and rebuild the tower of Babel; and pernicious 
exactly in proportion, to the elevation, capacity, and energy 
of the intellect that propagates, speculations so destitute 
of foundation in truth, or use in practice. 

Seventhly: We may deduce from the preceding analy- 
sis, a criterion for ascertaining, and a standard for estimat- 
ing, the stage of " social order" and intellectual improve- 
ment, at which any civilized community has arrived. 

It may be ascertained and estimated by the number of 
known truths actually unfolded in Encyclopaedias, and books 
of science, by the number of individual minds, that have 
access, real access, to these volumes; and by the benevo- 
lence and wisdom with which the knowledge thus circu- 
lated, is applied to supply the wants, alleviate the ills and 
multiply the genuine pleasures, of human life: We may 
infer also, that the advancement of any, and of every civi- 



100 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

lized community, in the career of intellectual and moral 
improvement, will be accelerated; in proportion to the 
number of minds, assiduously and skilfully engaged in the 
evolution of cause and effect, and to the facility with which 
they cajn circulate a knowledge of their discoveries, inven- 
tions and speculations: and that the advancement of every 
civilized community, in this career, will be retarded in 
proportion to the paucity of such minds, the deficiency of 
their exertions in concert, perseverance and skill; and to 
the extent, to which their exertions are shackled, by positive 
institutions, by popular prejudice, by inglorious indolence or 
more inglorious timidity, or by abject and voluntary abase- 
ment before the Idols of error.* 



* On this ground, as on its foundation, the whole fabric of 
practical and political morality reposes its stupendous weight: 
From this principle, as from their fountain, all the salutary 
lessons of ethical or political economy, spontaneously flow. 

By correct reasoning from this principle, we are enabled to 
discover the origin of government, and to prove that it is co- 
essential and co-extensive with human society in every condi- 
tion, with social order in every possible form, with civilization 
in all its stages, past, present, and prospective. 

We are enabled to discover also, that anarchy and despot- 
ism, differ merely in degree; despotism consisting essentially in 
that mitigated degree of anarchy, which is permanently compati- 
ble with the existence of human society, in a state of misery, 
not utterly intolerable: That all political institutions that create 
enormous monopolies of property, and permanently pack society 
into orders privileged and unprivileged, creating factitious 
rights and annihilating moral duties, are (in relation to the true 
theory and objects of good government,*) rank oppression, radi- 
cal inexpediency, injustice in essence and by system: In rea- 



Of Human Knowledge. 101 

In the astonishing succession of inestimable truths and 
pestilent errors, that extort alternately the reverence and 
scorn, the admiration and disgust of the intelligent reader, in 
perusing every page of the later writings of Edmund Burke, 



soning from this principle, the impartial inquirer clearly per- 
ceives that such institutions arrest, (or retard, if they cannot 
arrest,) the progress of intellectual improvement, by depriving 
the mass of mankind of liberty, property and leisure, and of 
the means consequently of acquiring knowledge; and render 
liberty, property, and leisure useless, or worthless to the mo- 
nopolist, by extinguishing all the genuine motives to the acqui- 
sition of knowledge, and the exercise of benevolence, in other 
words, to the practice of piety and virtue: That such institu- 
tions, in fine, have a necessary tendency, (wherever they operate 
and so long as they operate,) to retard and restrain the human 
mind in its exertions to discover truth; to circumscribe within 
the narrowest limits, the knowledge of truths previously disco- 
vered; and even during successive ages, to convert these truths 
in their practical applications, into instruments of error and 
evil; of impiety and vice here, and by necessary consequence, of 
misery here, and hereafter. 

By correct reasoning from this principle, we clearly per- 
ceive, that a wisely organized and well-administered govern- 
ment essentially consists in securing to every human being, as 
early as possible, and as completely as possible, the inviolable 
possession and free use of the fruits of his labour, during life; 
and its appropriation according to the testamentary will of 
the individual, when he arrives at the close of his mortal 
career: In securing also to every individual, in the pursuit of 
happiness, a co-incidence betwixt his actions, and his will, 
so far as such co-incidence is compatible with co-incidence 
betwixt the actions of other individuals, in the same community, 
and their wills, in the same pursuit. 

We learn also, that as we can add only to the number of 
known truths, or extend the knowledge of truths previously 



102 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

there are two observations in his speech in Bristol, (amongst 
the million of the same character, that immortalize his 
orations) which ought to be engraven on the memory, and 

discovered; as truth, can only be discovered and circulated and 
error detected and exposed, by the unrestricted communication 
of individual minds with each other; by the free interchange, 
collision and comparison, of the speculations and thoughts of 
individual minds; it follows, that a wisely organized and well 
administered government essentially consists also, in securing 
to every individual the right, which by men of eminence, may 
be called the divine right, or the right of rights; the right of 
giving spontaneous expression, and the most speedy, extended 
and permanent publicity, to his inquiries, doubts, and specula- 
tions on all subjects, within the limits of the knowable, or, that 
are believed by their author, to be within those limits: with the 
exclusion solely, of matters (whether true or false, facts or 
fabrications,) the publication of which, would disparage the re- 
putation of any of his fellow-citizens; who, however otherwise 
worthless, miserable, or vicious, has not drawn down on his 
devoted head, the vengeance of law, or the malediction of uni- 
versal odium: And even in such unhappy instances, the right 
to the free communication of opinions, sentiments and even 
facts, ought to be exercised with as much caution, delicacy and 
reserve, as in relation to all other subjects, it ought to be exer- 
cised with fearless frankness, with intrepid sincerity, with 
heroic independence of thought and spirit. 

It is deducible also that, as the general, secure, and im- 
partial participation of these inestimable blessings, is matter of 
supreme moment, and of equal moment, to every human being; 
the deliberate judgments and volitions, in plainer language, the 
wills, of as many human beings as possible, in every communi- 
ty, ought to be consulted, in establishing the constitutions and 
framing the regulations, that may be essential to the security, 
impartial participation, and perpetuation, of these inestimable 
blessings. 



Of Human Knowledge, 103 

on the heart, of every ingenuous youth, in every part of the 
civilized world, but especially, in these rising states. 

" Indolence is the master-vice of man." 

It follows, therefore, that wherever the inequality of condi- 
tions is sufficiently diminished, knowledge sufficiently circulated, 
the means of providing healthful employment and abundant sub- 
sistence to an increasing population, sufficiently ample and ac- 
cessible, and the causes of external violence, adequately coun- 
teracted, to pave and prepare the way for popular government, 
that the election of their political rulers, at short intervals, by 
the numerical majority of males, who have arrived at adult age, 
becomes the firmest foundation on which political and civil 
liberty can repose; and the most probable means of securing a 
prevalence of wisdom and virtue in the construction, and ad- 
ministration of government. 

It is deducible, also, that the attempt to introduce a popu- 
lar government, in a state of society, (where the circumstances 
previously enumerated do not exist,) may lead to the aggrava- 
tion, and to the greatest fiossible aggravation, of every actual 
evil; may exasperate an established and regulated despotism 
into an anarchy so intolerable, as to be the precursor and arti- 
ficer of military despotism, and make the temporary endurance 
of military despotism, a lesser evil: nay, the attempt to intro- 
duce a popular government, prematurely, might have this ten- 
dency and produce this effect, so fatally, that if precipitately 
and madly made, by the civilized nations of Europe, it might 
produce universal and intolerable anarchy, and replunge so- 
ciety into the Chaos of barbarism, from which it has so glori- 
ously emerged; reverse forever, the career of civilization, in 
which it has for the last two centuries, in Europe, so auspi- 
ciously advanced: It is conceivable, and even probable, that if 
this attempt were made in Europe, to a certain extent, and with 
a certain degree of unpreparedness and blind enthusiasm, it 
might cause a degeneracy more deplorable, and a depravation 
more horrible, than any prophet has ever foretold, any misan- 



104 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

" Ignorance is impotence, narrowness of mind is impo- 
tence, timidity is itself impotence, and makes every thing 
else that accompanies it, impotent and useless." 

Eighthly: It is deducible from the preceding analysis, 
(and this inference is the most important that can be de- 
duced from it,) that as the dignity of human nature, its pre- 
eminence and dominion upon earth, its capabilities of pro- 
gressive improvement and virtue, primordially originate, in 
its capacity to unravel indefinitely, the chain of cause 
and effect: as the successive stages of intellectual and 
moral improvement, at which it actually arrives, are indis- 
solubly connected, or more properly identified, with the 

thropist ever conceived; a degeneracy in fine, so hopeless and 
irreclaimable, that the voice only, which said, " let there be 
light, and there was light," could arrest its careering desola- 
tion. The writer, in expressing these ideas, gladly substitutes^ 
might for may, for the mere conception of the faintest probability 
of such an attempt, is appalling, and even petrifying, to the moral 
sensibilities of every reflecting mind. 

It follows, meanwhile, that it is the prime duty of the Ameri- 
can patriot, (in a state of society in which a popular government 
has been established, and is now in " the full tide of successful 
experiment;") whether in a public, or, a private station, in exer- 
cising personal influence, or delegated power, to employ every 
means, to enlighten and liberalize public opinion: that it is his 
prime duty, in his legislative capacity, not only to consult 
the interests, and Conform to the constitutional instructions 
of the organized and numerical majority, but to promote the 
establishment of those public institutions, that have a tendency 
by diffusing useful knowledge, to guide the people in the pur- 
suit of happiness, and by necessary consequence, to advance 
national prosperity and greatness. 



Of Human Knowledge. 10£ 

knowledge of the relation of cause and effect, not only at- 
tained, but diffused: as the numerical individuals who 
Gompose the human species, disappear periodically, and 
are periodically renovated by successive generations, with- 
in periods seldom exceeding one hundred years, and never 
exceeding a mean duration of sixty years: as every suc- 
ceeding generation commences its mortal career in igno- 
rance and impotence, endowed by nature with capacities 
for the acquisition of knowledge, at least equal to those of 
their progenitors, (although susceptible, possibly, of orga- 
nical melioration and deterioration,) but at the moment of 
birth, undisciplined by and unfurnished with knowledge; 
without any actual participation in the patrimony of the spe- 
cies, progressive science: as these capacities can be disciplin- 
ed and furnished only, as knowledge of the relation of cause 
and effect can be imparted to individual mind, in its advances 
from infancy to maturity, only by education; by the benevo- 
lent and judicious exertions of adult and cultivated minds, 
to instruct minds immature and uninformed: It follows, that 
education is the only efficient means, within the reach or 
power of man, by which the improvement of human socie- 
ty, individually, or, in its totality; (of a single individual, of 
any given number of individuals, or, of the whole number 
of individuals, who compose a nation or generation,) can be 
realized: It follows, that as the methods for communicating 
knowledge through the medium of education, are simplified 
in their process, and as the academical institutions for com- 
municating knowledge by these methods, are multiplied and 
matured: in other words, in proportion to the number of in- 



i 



106 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

dividuals in each succeeding generation, or, to the number 
of individuals in every civilized community, who are edu- 
cated in those academical institutions; will be the sum of 
happiness, enjoyed by each succeeding generation, taken 
collectively, by any civilized community, taken separately, 
and in a great majority of cases, the degree of happiness 
and usefulness enjoyed by any individual, taken singly. 

It follows, that education, national education, (the extensive 
establishment of scientific schools, skilfully conducted, judi- 
ciously located, and sufficiently multiplied,) stands related 
to the human mind, and to human society, as the atmos- 
phere to the earth: as the atmosphere is the only physi- 
cal medium, through which the genial influences of heaven 
can penetrate the one; education is the only moral me- 
dium, through which the genial influence of progressive 
knowledge can penetrate the other. 

It follows, that all other means of promoting human hap- 
piness, are remote, preparatory and ministerial: education 
alone, is proximate, efficient, and productive. 

It follows, that education is the point of conflux, in which 
all other moral causes unite their influence; the focus, in 
which all the rays of knowledge, beaming from innumera- 
ble minds, through the void of former ages, (like light from 
innumerable orbs, traversing the spaces that intervene be- 
twixt our earth and the celestial bodies,) converge and con- 
centrate. 

It follows, that every improvement in government and 
legislation; in agriculture, manufactures, and science; every 
actual or attainable advantage in the external circumstances 



Of Human Knowledge. 107 

of human society; every accession to the stores of know- 
ledge; derives its moral efficacy in doing good, or, averting 
evil, from education solely.* 

* In stating this inference from the preceding analysis, the 
writer has deliberately exposed the passage in which it is stated, 
to the charge of tautology, pleonasm, verbosity: has deliberately 
disregarded every rule of brevity and laconism; for the sake 
of conveying this inference clearly, and if possible impressing 
it deeply, on the mind of the reader. The rules of brevity (as 
they are expounded, in the " philosophy of rhetoric," a neglected 
but immortal work) like the other rules of elegant composition, 
are of high authority: but it is an authority, at all times subor- 
dinate, to the cardinal duty of every individual who presumes 
to communicate his thoughts on important subjects, through 
the medium of the press; the cardinal and inviolable duty, of 
expressing his thoughts perspicuously; and perspicuously too, 
to the minds of as many readers as possible, and of those rea- 
ders more especially, (because they are the most numerous,) 
who are little conversant with philosophical speculations. 

Cheerfully, therefore, and gladly would he subject this pas- 
sage to the censure, and to the ridicule, of the most accom- 
plished verbal critics; if he could indulge a hope, that he had 
succeeded in conveying this inference clearly, and impressing 
it indelibly on the minds of patriots and parents: could he in- 
dulge a hope, that he had brought this all-important truth 
home to the " business and bosoms" of patriots and parents, 
more especially, in the American republic. 

Whatever maybe the opinions and sentiments of our breth- 
ren in Europe, who are ignorant of the history, inattentive to the 
situation, or jealous of the rising greatness of the American re- 
public, it never can be forgotten by any intelligent native or adopt- 
ed citizen of this republic: that it constitutes not the vanguard 
merely, but the very van, of the immense post of civilized men; 
who, with confederated strength, common interests, and every fa- 
cility for communication and concert; with the everlasting banners 



108 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits' 

Ninthly: From the preceding analysis, we may infer 
also, a satisfactory explanation of the elementary principle, 
still a desideratum: a solution of the radical question, still 

of the press, unfurled; under the solar light of a science no long- 
er destined to periodical sunset, local extinction and permanent 
eclipse; armed with the truth-tempered weapons which revela- 
tion has supplied " from the armory of God" and which art has 
forged in the arsenals of science; are advancing with a steady 
and accelerated march, in the career of civilization. 

Still less can it be forgotten, by any intelligent citizen of the 
American republic, who has had the happiness to be born and 
educated in the great country, that laid the foundations of this 
republic; that the American people are a part of the illustrious 
race of men who for a century back, have led this mighty host 
in either hemisphere, and seem to be selected by divine provi- 
dence as the moral instruments, for diffusing the love of liberty 
and the light of science throughout the habitable globe: The 
illustrious race of men, who, by recalling adventurous and 
chivalrous minds from vain excursions into the region of the 
unknowable, by constantly subjecting and comprehending new 
provinces of the knowable, within the dominion of the known, 
and thereby extending the intellectual empire of human reason: 
by multiplying and maturing local institutions for the diffusion 
of knowledge, and the practice of beneficence, and thereby ex- 
tending the moral empire of piety and virtue; have become 
willing instruments under the blessing of the Creator, for ac- 
complishing the final cause of creation, the progressive ascend- 
ancy, and we are permitted to hope, ultimately eternal sway, of 
truth over error, good over evil, of benevolent and enlighten- 
ed mind, over unconscious and chaotic matter. And as of all the 
means of effecting this beneficent purpose the extensive establish- 
ment of scientific schools, is proverbially and incomparably the 
most efficient: it follows, that it is the prime duty of legislators, 
patriots and parents, in the American republic, to patronise 
and cherish these noble institutions. 



Of Human Knotol edge. 109 

problematical, in political philosophy, the definition of pro- 
ductive labour: in other words, a satisfactory explanation, of 
the mode of exerting the natural and acquired, the physi- 

To overlook or neglect any practicable and efficient means, 
of enabling the rising generation, to pluck and eat, the ripe, 
wholesome and unforbidden " fruits of the tree of knowledge;" 
is a sin, on the part of the Christians, (occupying responsible 
and important stations, or possessing extensive influence, under 
a popular government,) in the sight of God, scarcely inferior 
in magnitude and malignity, to the " orignal sin" committed 
by our first parents, in eating the " forbidderi fruit." 

The neglect, evasion, or, violation, of this prime duty of pa- 
triots in the American republic, is treason to truth; a crime 
capital and inexpiable in the sight of justice; an act of attainder 
upon all posterity: an offence, which, like " original sin," 
draws after it the visitation of the vengeance of God, from 
guilty fathers, on their innocent children and their children's 
children. 

To bestow the appellation of patriot, on the man who in the 
American republic, neglects, or, evades this cardinal duty; and 
still more, on the man who in any public capacity impedes or 
opposes its execution, is mockery and profanation: an abuse of 
words that only folly, or the vilest adulation and sycophancy, 
could tolerate or countenance: a species of blasphemy, that can 
be grateful only to the ears, and ought to be uttered only by the 
lips, of fiendish and evil spirits, or their imps on earth. 

The man or men, who under a government that devolves 
on every citizen, the exercise of rights, and the performance of 
duties, that demand the constant circulation and increasing ac- 
cession of knowledge; that make its constant circulation and 
increasing accession as necessary to the well-being, as " daily 
bread" and vital air are to the mere-being of human creatures; 
the man or the men, who under such a government deliberately 
and effectually counteract the diffusion of knowledge, perpe- 
trate a " deed without a name;" a deed that concentrates the 



110 On- the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

cal and intellectual energies of man, that makes an acces- 
sion to the means of happiness. This analysis will assist, 
in framing a moral scale or standard, for estimating the in- 
trinsic worth, the comparative practical utility, the abso- 
lute and relative value, of the various professions and em- 
ployments of civilized man. 

The exertions of man, whether corporeal or mental, or 
a combination of both, can lay claim to utility, productive- 
ness, beneficence, (or whatever other designation the moral 
or political philosopher may think proper to apply,) on four 
grounds, or, in four modes only. 

First, the evolution of links in the chain of cause and 
effect, by the assistance of divine inspiration, revealing fu- 
ture events, through the medium of prophetic visions: or, 
by controlling the established course of nature, and insert- 
ing new links in the chain of cause and effect, by the ex- 
ercise of super-human power: Or, secondly, by adding to 
the number of known truths, by the exercise of superior, 
but merely human, sagacity and invention: Or, thirdly, by 
evolving links in the chain of cause and effect, that not 
only add to the number of known truths, but supply means 
for facilitating the transmission and circulation of know- 
ledge: Or, lastly, by the practical application of truths pre- 



guilt of patricide, liberticide, parricide, fratricide and suicide, 
in its superlative atrocity: a supreme and super-Satanic guilt* 
the maximum of vice and impiety; to the perpetrators of which, 
" the throne of mercy will be inaccessible," arid for the expia- 
tion of which, even " the Saviour of the world has suffered in 



Of Human Knowledge* 111 

viously discovered, in producing happiness, or, in prevent- 
ing, or, alleviating misery.* 

* According to this explanation, the first rank amongst the 
benefactors of mankind, non longo intervallo merely, but toto 
calo will belong, to the minds, selected by the Creator of the uni- 
verse, as organs for revealing to mankind, truths that concern 
their temporal and eternal happiness. Minds chosen and commis- 
sioned by the Creator, for this blessed purpose, occupy a solitary 
and unapproachable pre-eminence. The difference, in dignity 
and usefulness, betwixt prophets and apostles, and the most 
successful improvers and propagators of merely human know- 
ledge, (as measured by the comparative value of the truths 
they unfold,) is the difference, betwixt finite and infinite, or, even 
betwixt infinite and nothing. 

The truths of revealed religion, (in the estimation of all 
sincere believers in its divine origin,) must be demonstrably 
more momentous, in relation to the eternal destiny of even a 
single human being; than the temporal interests of the greatest 
possible number of human beings; existing in any finite space 
however vast, for any finite length of time, however extended, 
and at any finite stage of civilization or improvement, however 
advanced. 

The second rank, will belong to those preachers and teach- 
ers of revealed religion, who most successfully, zealously, and 
ably propagate a knowledge, and inculcate the practice, of the 
sublimest and most beneficent of all principles, known or knowa- 
ble. 

It is difficult, perhaps, at this time, to form an adequate con- 
ception of the good which might be done, by a body of accom- 
plished preachers; confederating their efforts, to check the 
spread of prevalent immoralities, to extirpate the seeds of in- 
veterate errors; to display the loveliness, and inculcate the prac- 
tice of a pure and sublime ethics: to prove, by the express au- 
thority of the sacred text, that every duty which such a system 
enjoins, is enjoined also in the gospel: that the very course of 



112 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

Tenthly: we may infer, that as man is precluded from 
all direct knowledge of, and even (according to the esta- 

life, which will most effectually secure temporal happiness, is 
the best security, also, (so far as works are concerned,) for hap- 
piness in the world to come: to accustom their disciples, to as- 
sociate the idea of divine approbation, with the smiles of con- 
science; the beatifying anticipation of eternal happiness, with 
the performance of every virtuous act, with the consciousness 
of every virtuous impulse, and the anticipation of eternal misery, 
with the voluntary and habitual indulgence of every vicious pro- 
pensity: that a vicious course of life, even if death were admit- 
ted to close the scene, would be egregious folly, even in an in- 
fidel; but that on the part of a sincere christian, it betrays not 
frailty merely, but infatuation; not temerity, but desperation^ 
not imprudence, but insanity. 

Nor will the writer dismiss this subject, without remark- 
ing, that indications of an improved and more persuasive 
style of pulpit oratory, are distinctly visible, in the sermons, 
more especially, of Paley, Porteus, Allison, the late Mr. Buck- 
minster, of Boston, but above all others, in those of Mr. Hall, 
of Cambridge: nor is there any evidence of the progress of mo- 
ral improvement, which piety and philanthropy more cordially 
hail, as the blessed harbinger, the sacred pledge, the assured 
presage, of the progressive ascendency, and prospective tri- 
umphs, of reason and revelation. 

The third rank will probably be conceded, to the provident 
and ruling minds, who have discovered truths, essential to the 
dispersion and multiplication of mankind, throughout the ha- 
bitable globe: those beneficent sages, who, like tutelary genii, 
have successively conducted their fellow men from the preda- 
tory to the pastoral; and from the pastoral to the agricultural 
state of society. 

The fourth rank may be fairly claimed, by the legislators, 
who have framed and established, in the early stages of civili- 
zation, codes and methods of education, by which communities, 



Of Human Knowledge, 



113 



blished laws of nature,) from the physical possibility of im- 
mediate intercourse with intelligent beings of a higher or- 



oscillating betwixt barbarism and civilization, have been for ages 
protected against the ever-imminent, alike formidable, apparent- 
ly adverse, but, in reality, homogeneous evils, despotism and 
anarchy: and by the wiser legislators, who, in the more advanced 
stages of civilization, have secured to populous and flourishing 
states, the blessings of liberty, property, and an intelligent pur- 
suit of happiness. 

The jlfth rank, is probably due, to those sagacious and in- 
trepid navigators, who have successively enlarged ©ur know- 
ledge of the distant and previously disconnected regions of the 
world we inhabit; converted the vast oceans, that seemed des- 
tined to separate, impassably, the various races of mankind, 
into the " azure bond" of universal intercourse; and paved the 
way, consequently, for asserting the pre-eminence and domi- 
nion of man, in every accessible region of the habitable globe. 

The sixth rank, may be assigned to the inventive and pene- 
trating minds, who have provided means for facilitating and ex- 
tending the diffusion of knowledge: and their separate claims 
to equality or superiority will be adjusted, by the comparative 
efficacy of the means they have discovered, for effecting this 
beneficent purpose. In the front of this rank, stand the inventors 
of the alphabet, of the art of writing, and (towering with a " sta- 
ture that reaches the skies,") the inventor of the press. 

The seventh rank, belongs probably, to those grand im- 
provers of medical science, and masters of the medical art, who 
have discovered effectual means for preventing or healing pain- 
ful maladies; and taught their fellow men, how to preserve the 
first of blessings to every mind embodied in corruptible mat- 
ter: the biessing without which, the body, instead of being the 
home, becomes the dungeon, instead of being the vassal, be- 
comes the tyrant and tormentor of the mind; the dead weight by 
which its energies are crushed, or the rack on which its sensi- 



114 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

der; it is only by the miraculous control of these laws, by 
the fiat of Omnipotence; in other words, through the me- 

bilities are tortured so exquisitely, that life itself grows dis- 
gustful, and death desirable. 

The seventh rank is surely due to those medical sages, 
who are alone competent to inculcate, successfully, the prac- 
tice of the " holy law and sober dictates of chaste temperance;" 
by disclosing to the view of mankind, experimentally and pro- 
spectively; the excruciating and incurable diseases, the prema- 
ture decrepitude, the pain-enduring life, the ignominious, unla- 
mented, yet thrice welcome death, of its habitual and infatuated 
violators. * 

The next rank will be conceded without competition, to 
the academical sages, who, by a luminous development of 
elementary principles, combined with an efficient moral disci- 
pline, enlighten and liberalize the minds of youth; implant habits 
of piety and virtue at the season when the heart is most suscep- 
tible of permanent impressions: who not only secure and dis- 
pense to ordinary minds, an equitable share of the patrimony of 
civilized man, progressive knowledge; but qualify gifted and 
ruling intellects to exercise their sublime privileges, with ad- 
vantage to society and unsullied glory to themselves; and to 
become not only by their lives, but by the everlasting memory 
of their virtues and accomplishments, the vicegerents of heaven 
on earth. .. ■ 

The last rank is rightfully awarded to the bards, orators, 
and wonder-working artists, who by the chissel, the pencil, the 
plectrum, the tongue of inspiration, and the " pen of fire;" dis- 
play, in the Elysium of Fiction, to the " mind's eye," and 
enchant our senses, in the " mimic creation" of art, by the 
material semblance of those images of beauty, sublimity, bea- 
titude and grace, that embellished the face of nature; when 
first fashioned from Chaos by the hand of God, it glowed with 
ineffable loveliness under his approving smile. 

In descending from this rank, we approach that permanent 
distribution of industry, and diversified exercise of mental 



Of Human Knowledge, 115 

dium of divine revelation; that we can obtain knowledge, 
concerning the nature of intelligent beings of a superior 

ingenuity, to which we give the name of civilization: — These, 
when analyzed, are found to consist, in the practical appli- 
cation of the knowledge of the relation of cause and effect, 
(which the human mind has actually attained;) to supply the 
wants and gratify the desires of human beings: These wants, 
have their origin either in appetites, that constitute a part of 
our organic nature, and are essential to the preservation of life 
and to the perpetuation of the species: or, in the mutable and 
multiform ideas of imagination, to which whether wisely or not, 
the individual attaches preference and value; and in the pursuit 
of which, he finds incentives to exertion, experiences a vivid 
consciousness of existence, and lightens the load of motiveless 
and wearisome indolence. 

In what sense and to what extent, the term productive is 
applicable to the employments of the different classes of indivi- 
duals, whose industry and ingenuity are tasked to gratify these 
wants and desires, in the existing state of civilization; the writer 
forbears to inquire. An inquiry of this sort, belongs more pro- 
perly to a treatise on political economy, than to an essay on hu- 
man knowledge. — He will merely remark, that the exclusive 
application of the term " productive," to any of the exertions 
of human industry and ingenuity, (taken separately and specifi- 
cally,) that are in their combination and totality, alike essential 
to the abundant supply of the wants and desires of civilized man, 
is palpably indefensible, and preposterous; and betrays an ilii- 
berality of sentiment and narrowness of thought, altogether un- 
suitable to the dignity of philosophy. 

Every exertion of the body, or of the mind, or of both com- 
bined; whether expended in speculation or action, in art or sci- 
ence, in producing, transporting or fabricating; in increasing 
the quantity or improving the quality of things formed by the 
laws of inanimate ' matter; or in giving factitious forms and 
new destinations to inanimate substances; or, in transporting: 



116 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

order, or concerning the future destinies of the soul of in- 
dividual man, after he has closed his mortal career: Or 



matter in any of its rude or artificial forms, from place to place: 
every such exertion, whether expended in art or science, agri- 
culture, manufacture, or commerce, or in any of the innumer- 
able operations, that are subsidiary to the efficient exertion of 
industry or ingenuity in these pursuits, is entitled to the appli- 
cation of the epithet productive; on the same ground, although 
not in the same degree. 

Economists, who contend for a partial or specific applica- 
tion of this term; maybe safely challenged to assign a single 
satisfactory reason, in defence of its exclusive application to any 
one branch of human industry, that will not as clearly prove the 
propriety of its application to all others, and to several others 
" a fortiori:" or, to propose one solitary but solid argument, for 
denying its application to any one branch of industry, which will 
not, when fairly analyzed, deny it also to the very modes of in- 
dustry, to which their friend in speculation, but foe in practice, 
vainly strives, (in the true spirit of monopoly,) to secure this in- 
vidious, usurped, (and from the pen or lip of philosophy,) most 
odious distinction. 

Quesnay was assuredly a profound and philanthropic sage, 
and perhaps deserves to be entitled, the Socrates of France: 
but most unfortunately for his country and for mankind, he was 
compelled to examine the principles of political economy; 
through the " spectacles of books," by the artificial light of 
hypothesis; not in the living and healthful functions of well- 
ordered society, but in the anatomy of a subject, in which des- 
potism had suspended or perverted those functions; which had 
no " speculation," or nothing but speculation, " in the eyes 
which it did glare with;" on which death had stamped his 
image, and corruption had begun to prey. 

This political anatomist, meanwhile had a destiny suffi- 
ciently illustrious: He led the way for the great moral and 
political physiologist; not the Harvey, but the Haller, not the 



Of Human Knowledge, 117 

obtain knowledge in any degree satisfactory to his rational 
creatures, concerning the adorable attributes, superintend- 

Galileo, but the Newton of political economy; the unrivalled and 
immortal author of the" Wealth of Nations;" who " embraces 
millions in his grasp, educates in one school preceptors and 
pupils;" is heard with reverence, in the councils of legislators, 
and with awe, in the cabinets of kings; who "was perhaps, (if 
not the brightest,) the most beneficent moral luminary, of the 
age in which he lived. 

So high and universally acknowledged, is the authority of 
this immortal work, that it is at this time far more difficult, 
and important to the best interests of mankind; to detect its 
errors, (and they are radical,) than to comprehend and embrace, 
the salutary, the writer had almost added, the saving truths, 
which it contains. 

The truths, which the Wealth of Nations has unfolded, shine 
with a solar lustre, that dazzles whilst it enlightens; and in 
whose brightness, the errors it contains are unseen, and even 
unsuspected, by unassisted vision. The effulgence of the sun 
is visible to every eye, but it is only in the field of a Herschel- 
lian telescope, that the spots on his glorious disk, are distinctly 
seen. Adam Smith was not the La Place, but the Newton of 
political economy: He has subjoined queries to his mental op- 
tics, which yet remain to be solved; the solution of these queries 
is impatiently expected from his compatriot successors Dugald 
Stuart, and Thomas Brown: These are not lunar, but terres- 
trial irregularities, that cannot be explained by the political 
" principia" of Adam Smith: for the explanation of these irre- 
gularities mankind, look, and have a right to look, and will not, 
we trust, look in vain; to the genius, of the youngest, but 
favourite son of the " magna virum mater," the genius of 
Scotland. 

The Edinburgh Review teems, with original and inestima- 
ble speculations on political economy: if the reader is anxi- 
ous, to examine the subject of this note to the bottom; he is 
referred to the article, in that review, in which lord Lauder- 



118 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

ing providence, and mysterious dispensations, of the Creator 
of the universe, a our Father who is in Heaven." 

dale's book on national wealth, is analyzed: An article, in which 
original light is shed upon the science of political economy; 
and in which logic, eloquence and wit, " distil their neetar'd 
sweets," The writer was sorry, but not surprised to learn, 
that this viand for the nodes cosnaque deorum, was unpalata- 
bte, not to the taste, but to the feelings, of the noble author. In 
its com position, although so richly imbued with nectar, some 
grosser particles of terrene or of infra-terrene origin were mixed: 
particles, not of the Attic or Addisonian salt, which is an ele- 
mentary and essential ingredient, in all compositions of this sort: 
but of that modern substitute for this ingredient, the impure 
and intoxicating spirit of vituperative satire, by which insolent 
genius and wicked wit, has endeavoured to exalt the pungency 
of the literary banquet: to tickle the fastidious taste, to rouse the 
jaded curiosity, to quicken the torpid sensibility, and relieve for 
a moment the motiveless and yawning apathy, the life-sick ennui, 
of the restless reader. 

Wretched substitute! abortive artifice! can a deficient sen- 
sibility be supplied; or an enfeebled sensibility re-invigorated; or 
an exhausted sensibility be renovated; by the artificial strength 
of the stimulus? Is not indirect debility, of all debilities the most 
incurable? Surely, to convert extreme medicine into daily bread; 
is not to cure disease or alleviate pain, but to poison the foun- 
tains ©f intellectual health, to wither the finest nerves of moral 
sensibility; to sear conscience, and to harden the heart: instead 
of performing the holiest and humanest office, for which genius 
descends from heaven to earth, administering the " balm of 
hurt minds," this, is to exasperate misery into madness, and 
extinguish the last ray of hope, as it glimmers on the couaii of 
despair. 

At this ominous and eventful sera, it is refreshing to the 
very soul of a philanthropist; to find any nobleman, (and it is 
delightful, nay, delicious, to better feelings in the breast of every 
intelligent native of Scotland, than those of local attachment, to 



Of Human Knowledge. 119 

Eleventhly: It is deducible from the preceding analysis, 
that as virtue and vice are founded in good and evil, and 



find a Scottish nobleman,) appropriating a portion of his leisure 
to speculations on political economy; instead of wasting his 
own, and the nations' patrimony, in the vortical and unrefunding 
gulf of unproductive expense, or hiding his wealth in hoards, 
almost as inaccessible to the uses of society, as the very mines 
from which it was dug. 

Even if the book had teemed with errors, although error 
assuredly, (in every form it assumes, secular or sainted, be 
its author who he may; be he titled, or, even sceptered! mitred 
or, triple-crowned!) has no claim to quarter; but ought to be 
detected, stigmatised and exposed with ut mercy, and with 
remorse only, where mercy has been shown: yet the motive 
and object of lord Lauderdale, in writing and publishing his 
book on " National Wealth," were so truly nobie, and the 
example he set, was so precious, (not more from its rarity, 
than its intrinsic worth,) that he was certainly entitled to 
respect and delicacy, the writer will even add, to gratitude 
and admiration; from the rightful and acknowledged censors 
on the august tribunals of criticism. 

He certainly ought not, to have been for a moment con- 
founded, with the " servum fiecus" of venal sciolists, whom it is 
the ignominious, but proper office, of the penal ministers of the 
literary police, to scourge flagrante fiagello: Those unhallowed 
money-changers, who dare to profane, not the temple of philo- 
sophy, and the Olympic amphitheatre of genius, but the altar 
of the living God; by the idolatry of Moloch and of Mammon: 
Those imps of perdition who steal into the paradise of litera- 
ture, in the night of ignorance, and are detected, (by the " strong 
and subtile spirits," commissioned by the tribunals of taste, to. 
" search that paradise,") " squat like toads, close at the ear" of 
unsuspecting, because uncorrupted innocence; and " essaying 
by their devilish art, to work upon the organs of their fancy:" 
Those conscience- less, soul-less and frontless sophists; who 



120 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

as good and evil, constitute a part, and by far the most im- 
portant part, of the chain of cause and effect; and can be 



procure seats in. the legislative assemblies of the republic of 
letters, and " drop manna" from their tongues and pens; only 
to " perplex and dash maturest councils, and to make the worse 
appear the better reason." 

But lord Lauderdale had and has, abetter claim to respect- 
ful treatment from the censors of criticism. His book contains 
many original and valuable speculations, is an accession to the 
science of political economy, only less valuable than the essay 
on " Colonial Policy," and a more valid title to the respect of 
his contemporaries and even of his intelligent countrymen, than 
Heraldry can bestow; a nobler and more durable monument 
to his memory, than sculpture can erect in Holyrood, or, West- 
minster. 

True: he has treated with irreverence the authority, and 
rashly, (in more than one instance,) controverted the principles, 
of a man more illustrious, than all the lords or dukes in Britain, 
Adam Smith: but of all human productions, the " Wealth of 
Nations" probably, has least to fear, from the scorn of any rank, 
however exalted; from the frown of any potentate, however 
powerful; or from the cavils of any sophistry, however subtile or 
imposing: Of all modern philosophers, the author of the" Theory 
of Moral Sentiments," would have shrunk with the strongest 
antipathy, from any alliance with the unsympathising satirist: 
he surely stands least in need, of any auxiliary, other than cor- 
rect reasoning, perspicuously expressed and clearly illustrated: 
other than the evidence of truth, flowing through the language 
of sincerity, in the accents of benignity, and wth the aspect of 
urbanity, from the lips of taste. 

There is another light, in which this subject may be viewed, 
and another meaning which may be properly and emphatically, 
attached to the term " productive," in its application to the pur- 
suits of civilized man. But This, to use the language of Edmund 
Burke, is " high," and even holy, " matter:" and may not be 



Of Human Knowledge, 1.21 

unravelled only, (like all the other discoverable links in 
that interminable chain,) by observation and experiment, 



approached (nor approach even meditated), but with becoming- 
reverence, and deliberation of inquiry. 

Whether the writer will ever venture to approach this high 
and holy theme, he knows not: at present, he retires from the 
discussion, with conscious inferiority and unaffected awe, to 
make way for the approach, and await the responses of those 
initiated and esoteric disciples of moral science; the Malthuses, 
the Broughams, the Stuarts, the Browns, the Jeffreys, and 
the Godwins, of the age: Those ruling, graced and gifted 
minds, which, whether they swoop at error, or, soar to truth; 
display the strength of the falcon's pinion, the plumage of the 
far-fam'd Phoenix, and the undazzled vision of the bird of Jove: 
on whose flight, whether in its aspiration to the skies, or, its 
descent to earth, he is condemned, 

" Aspicere subliraem et longe observare tuendo:" 

To gaze with mingled, or, alternate emotions of " delight and 
despair." 

On reading the name of " Godwin, 5 ' in the preceding note, 
the writer " sees, or thinks he sees" the intelligent reader, rub 
his startled eyes, and after turning eagerly but vainly to the list 
of " errata," he hears, or thinks he hears him; vehemently 
vituperate the inexcusable, the inexpiable negligence of the 
writer, who could overlook; and the felonious, the sacrilegious, 
stupidity of the typographer, who could commit, so glaring! 
and damnatory! a blunder. 

Suspend your vituperation, good reader, and recover your 
equanimity: readers as well as authors and typographers, occa- 
sionally err: Humanum est, good reader, humanum est, errare. 
In this instance, both writer and printer are guiltless of negli- 
gence: but beware good reader, lest you incur the guilt, of 
precipitate, unwarranted and illiberal censure. 



122 On the Nature, Extent^ and Limits 

the knowledge and practice of morality, will essentially 
depend upon the extent and accuracy of our knowledge 

The writer recognises your perfect right, to approve or con- 
demn, to censure or applaud, what you read: but he also has a 
right to expect, (and your candour is its sole guarantee,) that you 
will not pre-judge, what you read. Read therefore what he is 
about to write, he charges you! in the name of candour; and 
after having read, what he is about to write, vituperate; if it so 
pleases you, and as heartily, as you please. 

The introduction of Godwin's name, is no slip of the pen; no 
error of the press: The name of that author is introduced with 
perfect deliberation: The writer means William Godwin, au- 
thor of u PoliticalJustice, The Enquirer, Caleb Williams, St. Le- 
on, Memoirs of Mary Woolst oner aft, Fleetwood" and of a most 
somniferous tragedy, whose title he has forgotten. He means 
the notorious day-dreamer, who dreamt, (and published his 
dreams;) that the time would come, when man would live not 
forty-eight hours, but a century, without sleeping: that although 
the immortality of his soul, in another world, and even the ex- 
istence of another world, were very improbable; it was highly 
probable, that his body would become immortal in this world, 
and perfectly certain, that this world, was eternal. That the 
time would come, when our descendants would talk familiarly 
of the brevity of Patriarchal longevity, (respecting which he was 
confessedly incredulous,) and speak of Methusalem as a strip- 
ling. Who dreamt, that the time would come, when a plough- 
man, instead of u plodding his weary way homeward" at the 
close of a toilsome day, to meet " his children lisping their 
sire's return;" would spend the whole day in teaching them to ar- 
ticulate distinctly, a very hard word to be pronounced, and harder 
still to understand; the word " perfectibility:" whilst his plough 
was plodding along the furrow, spontaneously and automatically, 
and without the slightest sensation of weariness, performing 
more work in a day, than with the guiding hand of the plough- 
man, it now performs in fifty days. 



Of Human Knowledge. 123 

of good and evil. It follows, therefore, that the " law of 
nature," or of man's nature, prescribes the patient and 

He dreamt and published this dream, at the time when the 
plough was almost the only implement, which practical artists 
and mechanicians, confessed themselves unable to improve or 
supplant. 

Who dreamt that the time was not distant, when a valet would; 
and was come, when a valet ought; (if Bishop Fenelon's palace 
were on fire,) to preserve the bishop's life in preference to his 
own; or to his father's, mother's, brother's, sweet-heart's, or 
wife's life; and even in preference to the lives of all together: 
but ought to preserve a manuscript copy of Telemachus, pre- 
vious to its publication; even if in preserving it, he was obliged 
to see its author consumed in the flames, and vowing, (if he 
would save his life,) to revise the book, and even to write a 
better book. 

He dreamt, and published this dream, at the time when va- 
lets were lopping off the mitred heads of bishops and archbi- 
shops, and quenching in their blood, the burning ashes of their 
palaces, which they had set on fire and consumed. 

Who, in one of his dreams, facetiously asked the public, what 
" magic" there was in the pronoun " my?" at the very time, when 
the grand sorcerer, Egotism, reigned triumphant: when every 
heart felt his mystic spell, and bowed in mute submission to his 
potent wand: when truth had no talisman, that could break his 
spell: when philosophy, felt her fingers ache, in the attempt to 
untie; and when the sword of justice was not blunted merely, but 
shivered, in the attempt to cut, the more intricate and impene- 
trable than " Gordian knot," which the sorcerer had coiled around 
the " human heart:" 

The man wh© dreamt, that every individual ought to pur* 
sue the happiness of every individual, except his own; at the 
very time, when every individual was pursuing a kind of hap- 
piness, (and the only kind for which he had desire or relish,) that 
overlooked, postponed, or opposed the happiness of others: and 



124 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

persevering analysis of good and evil, and the regulation 
of our actions according to the results of this analysis, uni- 

when many of those, for whose instruction, principally, the dream 
was promulged, made themselves willingly and supremely 
miserable, in order to make others as miserable as theypossibly 
could: at the portentous aera, when " Ambition was wading 
through slaughter, to the throne" of universal empire; and had 
not only shut, but " barricadoed strong," " the gates of mercy 
on mankind." 

Who dreamt, of inspiring universal, and not self-denying, but 
self-oblivious benevolence, in a world so full of evil and " varie- 
ty of wretchedness;" that a little more benevolence, would rack 
every guiltless breast with agonies more tormenting, than ever 
guilt endured: would make every human heart, 

" The universal sensitive of pain, 

The wretched heir, of evils not its own." 

The man who dreamt of perfectibility, at the very sera, when 
a sort of practical imperfectibility, an unprecedented, and appa- 
rently unlimited progress of vice and immorality; a seemingly 
endless succession of disorders and disasters, of " confusions 
worse confounded;" were ravaging the moral world: when ultra- 
mundane monsters, " Harpies! Hydras and Chimseras dire!" 
seemed to be embodied, armed from the plundered arsenal of 
Pandemonium, and let loose upon creation. 

The man who dreamt, of relaxing the nuptial tie! at the very 
time, when practical moralists had proved (with an evidence in- 
ferior only in clearness and force, to mathematical demonstra- 
tion,) that Christianity, by prohibiting polygamy and discouraging 
divorces, had done more to " settle and civilize the world, than 
by all its other blessed effects on human society:" at the time, 
when polygamy, was more abhorred by every man, who had un- 
derstanding, and every woman who had a soul; than polytheism, 
with all its voluptuous gods, and lascivious goddesses, was, by 



Of Human Knowledge, 125 

lbrmly preferring the greater good, and rejecting the great- 
er evil. It follows also, that although this fundamental law 



the worshippers, of the one and true God, " who is of purer 
eyes, than to behold iniquity:" at the terrific aera, when a pesti- 
lential degeneracy, had empoisoned the mother's milk; polluted 
the marriage bed, and lighted the hymeneal torch, at the " fire- 
brand of the furies;" had sundered those, whom " God had 
united," and united those, whom God had sundered. 

He refers to this extravagant day-dreamer, this far-famed 
somnabulist; whose " Political Justice" drugged the writer of 
this essay, into a trance, that lasted eight years: a trance, from 
which the " Essay on Population" first awakened him, but from 
which, many suspect, that he is not yet thoroughly roused. 

He deliberately associates the name of William Godwin; 
with the names of Malthus, M'Intosh, Brougham, Dugald 
Stuart, and Jeffrey: and he thinks, that they receive as much 
honour as they bestow, in being thus associated; and although 
he does not fear, that these eminent persons will be offended, 
at finding their names thus associated, (should they chance to 
peruse this essay, or, this part of it,) yet as some of their ad- 
mirers may; he avows his willingness, to vindicate the claims 
of William Godwin, to rank with the deepest thinkers, the most 
penetrating and intrepid inquirers, and the most eloquent wri- 
ters, of the age in which he lives: an age, in comparison with 
which, (so far as speculative fihilosofihy and amusive literature 
are concerned,) all previous ages, including the glorious days 
of Greece and Rome, were as twilight, or as midnight, to morn- 
ing or mid-day. 

He will even venture to predict, that the time is not distant, 
(although the hour is not yet on the wing,) when justice will be 
done to the « Political Justice," although the author himself is a 
guilty abettor and participator, in the injustice done to it; by 
not having yet retracted, in a new edition of his book, the errors, 
which he himself acknowledges, that it contains, and to which 
it gave circulation: till the pestiferous malignity, and damna- 



1 26 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

is immutable; it implies mutability in all the rules for the 
regulation of human conduct, that derive their authority 



tory odiousness of its errors, arrested the circulation of the book 
itself; eclipsed for years the solar lights of moral science; and 
drew from the silence, into which they had been awed, and the 
haunts to which they had fled for concealment and congenial 
gloom, (when those heavenly lights first shot " their glittering 
shafts of war,") the tools of power, the trumpeters of infernal 
superstition, and even the ink-fry of venality, till they almost 
" grew inured to light, and dared to gaze upon the sun, with 
shameless eyes." 

The author of " Political Justice," yet owes it to his read- 
ers and to himself; to his conscience and to his cause; to the 
very justice which is the " God of his idolatry;" to publish an 
edition of his work, conscientiously purified of its errors, by the 
sternest revision, the severest scrutiny: errors that darken its 
brightness, and make its author, even in the view of the young 
and ingenuous votaries of virtue, " resemble the sin and place 
of doom obscure and foul," in which, the tools of immorality 
and vice, of apostacy and imposture, expiate, and where minds 
so " for ever fallen," and lost to goodness alone, ought to expi- 
ate, their guilt. 

He owes this, to his conscience and to his cause; to him- 
self and to mankind; to God and to society; and he knows that 
he owes this: Knowing this, he cannot sleep sweetly, live 
happily, or, die in peace, and with the assured hope of a 
blessed immortality; or, even with the hope, that his name and 
character will be redeemed from eternal infamy; until he dis- 
charges, and unless he discharges, this sacred debt: a debt! 
which he can himself only, discharge. 

Meanwhile, with all its errors, (glaring, monstrous, and 
noxious as they are,) the Political Justice is the only elemen- 
tary work on Ethics, with the exception of Smith's Theory of 
Moral Sentiments, now existing in the world: or, at least, the 
only work of this character, in the writer's estimation, which 



Of Human Knowledge. 127 

and sanctions from this law: in other words, that although 
the fundamental law of morality is immutable, as it respects 

he has read or heard of: the only work on Ethics, in which the 
morality of the gospel is clearly developed, and taught with 
simplicity and sincerity, with earnestness and zeal, and by a 
teacher who neither connives at iniquity, courts popularity, de- 
precates prejudice, nor is awed by power. 

So deeply is the " Political Justice," imbued with the divine 
morality of the Gospel; that had the book been purified, by the 
omission of obnoxious passages; and had the leading chapters 
assumed the shape of homilies, with an appropriate text from 
the New Testament prefixed to each; it would have been, and 
been admitted to be, one of the most valuable, practical and per- 
suasive volume of sermons, ever delivered from the pulpit, or 
published to the world. 

For this deliberate and elaborate notice of the " Political 
Justice," the writer can stoop to offer no apology: he has, with 
the maturest reflection, in the full maturity of life, and with all 
the solicitude and apprehensions of an author, who, for the first 
time, obtrudes his lucubrations on the world, and who well 
knows, how much is hazarded, by mentioning without execra- 
tion, the very name of Godwin; availed himself of the occasion 
that now offers, thus to notice that once famous and now m-fa- 
mous book. 

He thinks it highly probable, that no one who will read this 
note, has suffered so deeply from its once epidemical errors, as 
the writer himself; that the man lives not, over whose destiny 
and pursuits, the perusal of that work, had so marked and deci- 
sive an influence: assuredly, the man lives not, who is more 
deeply indebted for the means of happiness and usefulness, to 
a knowledge of the inestimable truths, which are in that work 
so clearly and eloquently illustrated: he uses the word illustra- 
ted emphatically, for there is not, in fact, in the " Political Jus- 
tice," any moral or political principles, divulged for the first 
time. 



128 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

the duty of preferring the greater good, and rejecting the 
greater evil; yet, in determining what actually constitutes 

Philosophical readers and thinkers were familiar with all 
the leading speculations of that work for many years, previous 
to its appearance. Turgot, and other continental philosophers, 
had adopted the notion of perfectibility: the famous paradox 
with regard to the obligation of promises, had been previously 
started by Bentham, and by David Hume in his essay on Origi- 
nal Contract, had been stated with exquisite laconism; with a 
" brevity so pregnant" as to be at once an exposition and a vindi- 
cation: all the pure and sublime morality circulated in the Politi- 
cal Justice, on the subjects of justice, rights, benevolence, and 
sincerity, is sanctioned by the authority of the .Yew Testa?nent: 
the doctrine, with regard to liberty and necessity, had been 
maintained by a host of metaphysicians long before: the notions 
respecting self-love, and the mechanism of the mind, had been 
previously suggested, and ingeniously defended by Hartley, 
Hutchinson, Adam Smith, and David Hume. The reasonings 
in the second volume, are original and beautiful deductions 
from principles previously established and acknowledged, but 
they are deductions merely: so that, except the somnambulism 
and the dreams, (and with regard to these, the most implacable 
reviler of the work, will not deny the author's claim to novelty, 
and even to exclusive property,) there is no speculation or 
principle in the " Political Justice," that makes pretensions to 
originality, none that had not been previously supported by 
unquestionable authority, or, been vindicated by intellects as 
penetrating and vigorous, as have existed upon earth. 

The writer is far from intending, by these observations, to 
invalidate the claim of the author of " Political Justice," to the 
character of an original thinker and writer, much less to in- 
sinuate the charge of plagiarism. No writer, probably, ancient 
or modern, has a more solid claim to originality, both of thought 
and expression, and no writer can acknowledge, with more 
scrupulous and sensitive candor his obligations to the genius? 



Of Human Knowledge, 129 

the greater good, and the lesser or the least evil, the view of 
human reason, will vary and correspond with the extent 
and accuracy, of its knowledge of good and evil. 



wisdom or learning, of his predecessors and contemporaries. 
In doing justice to other authors, and in liberality, forbearance 
and forgiveness, even towards his most implacable adversa- 
ries, his most rancorous revilers; he displays a magnanimity, 
candor and christian charity, unexampled in the annals of lite- 
rature; and strangely contrasted with the polemical and more 
than pagan acrimony, that often characterises even religious 
controversies. He makes free use of the discoveries and spe- 
culations of other philosophers, but his manner of combining, 
illustrating, applying and impressing these principles, is all 
his own. 

With more than " Roman boldness," and often with Attic 
simplicity, energy and eloquence; and with a sincerity, benig- 
nity and earnestness, infusing into the soul of the reader, the 
philanthropy from which they flow, this author inculcates what 
he believes to be truth, and exposes, what he believes to be 
error. His severest censor may be safely challenged, to point 
out a single paragraph in his writings, marked by illiberality, 
misanthropy or uncharitableness. In these respects, he is a 
model to authors. 

It may be added, that by far the" most conclusive and per- 
suasive reasonings against rash innovation and revolutionary 
violence, that have ever been urged; are urged by this author, 
in his chapters on " political associations," " resistance," and 
" revolutions." 

Anarchy, conspiracy, tyrannicide, and lawless violence in 
every shape it can assume, have no more decided and consci- 
entious adversaries; nor has the tranquil, gradual, temperate 
and measured progress of improvement and reform, a sincerer 
or a more able advocate, than the author of " Political Justice." 
Hateful as that work is, in the eyes of all the blind idolaters, more 
hateful still in the eyes and to the hearts, of all the hypocritical 

R 



130 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

But farther, as the Creator of the universe, is believed 
to have announced through the medium of divine reve- 

but interested slaves, of feudal institutions; it is most hateful in 
the eyes of Jacobins, and imo corde, most hated, by headlong 
enthusiastic and self-idolizing innovators. 

Should the " Political Justice" fall into the hands of the 
arch -jacobin, in his melancholy exile in the island of St. He- 
lena; and it is far better fitted to console and sooth his remorse- 
ful spirit, than the immetrical effusions, of the monster-monger, 
(Milton's antipode and ape, and Moloch's catamite) who has 
been alternately the blasphemer and the blazoner, the icono- 
clast, and the idolater, of Satan's extinguished satellite: should 
the fallen Napoleon, chance to peruse the " Political Justice," 
he may be conceived to apostrophise its author, in the language 
which the great poet, has imagined to be addressed by Satan 
to the sun. 



To thee I call, 



But with no friendly voice, and add thy name 
To tell thee, how I hate thy beams. 

Spontaneously and deeply too, will the heart of the fallen 
Napoleon, respond to another burst of superhuman sublimity, 
in this wonderful soliloquy: 

Ay me, they little knew 
How dearly I abode that boast so vain, 
While they ador'd me on th' imperial throne, 
With diadem and sceptre high advanc'd, 
The lower still I fell, only supreme 
In misery; SUCH JOY AMBITION FINDS. 

Amen. So be it: So has it ever been: So may it ever be: 
So, under the government of God, must it ever be. 

Yet with all these solid claims to the respect and esteem 
of every intelligent public, in an enlightened age: with these 
peculiar claims, to candid expostulation, rather than stern re- 
monstrance; " to grave rebuke," softened by generous forgiv- 



Of Human Knowledge, 131 

lation, the awful, but animating, the solemn and sublime, 
but consolatory truth; that the human soul is immortal: 



ness, for his involuntary and conscientious errors, this author 
has been for sixteen years, a bye-word of infamy; the butt of 
ridicule; a mark for the sharp-shooters of calumny; a victim 
for the tomahawk of vituperative satire; and the selected victim 
on which, the odium theologicwn, has poured out the " consu- 
ming phials of its wrath." 

This is the author whose name innocent infancy, has been 
taught by amiable mothers, to lisp with horror; which generous 
and ingenuous youth has been instructed, to utter with alternate 
detestation and derision; which manhood has forgotten its dig- 
nity, and " fallen to cursing like a very drab;" which hoary and 
hoarding age, " without heat, affection, limb, or bounty, to make 
its riches pleasant," has opened its faultering lips, to execrate. 

It has been too long and too tamely endured, by the timid 
and temporising friends of freedom, by the panic-struck parti- 
zans of justice, and even by the gallant and chivalrous cham- 
pions of truth; that this mild, magnanimous, unresisting, uncom- 
plaining martyr, at the altar of philanthropy and sincerity; 
should not do pennance merely, (that justice would award;) but 
be pilloried like a caitiff, gibbetted like a malefactor; for the 
admixture of involuntary, conscientious and stimulative errors, 
with the promulgation of inestimable and practical truths. 

It has been too long and too tamely endured; not in London, 
Paris, Vienna, and St. Petersburg; but in the metropolis of 
Scotland, and by the appellate tribunals for the administration 
of literary justice, which the genius of metaphysical and ethical 
philosophy, has established there. 

It has been too long and too tamely endured, not in insular, 
but in continental Albion, in the American republic; the last, 
the vast, and we are permitted to trust, the inviolable asylum of 
persecuted virtue and of exiled freedom: It has been too long 
and too tamely endured, in this young republic, rising into des- 
tinies " beyond the reach of mortal eye;" whose political insti- 
tutions establish the truth, proclaim the triumph, illustrate the 



132 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

and has announced also, that its immortal destiny, its 
happiness and misery in a future state of existence of 



practicability and realize the practical blessings of the principles, 
that were for the first time systematically combined, perspicu- 
ously developed, and persuasively inculcated, in the " Political 
Justice." 

It has been too long and too tamely endured, not in the old 
but in the new world; that, whilst the author of Political Justice 
was doomed to expiate his honest errors, in insignificance and 
infamy; obscene jesters, and blaspheming bards, and venal bal- 
lad-mongers, and lascivious minstrels, and soul-less sophists, 
and heart-less sentimentalists, and frontless hypocrites, and won- 
der working, horror-breathing novelists, have basked in the sun- 
shine, not of courtly favour, (that might be forgotten;) not of 
fashionable favour, (that might be unnoticed;) but, of popular 
favour, which he must be more or less than man, who can re- 
gard with indifference, or forfeit without reluctance. 

The author, meanwhile, has no right to murmur or even to 
wonder, at the injustice which has been done to his book. In 
the injustice done to it, he has himself, not only been an abettor 
but a participator; not a secondary instrument, but a principal. 
He has perpetrated a kind of moral and intellectual suicide. 

At the post, where he had voluntarily stationed himself, the 
post of danger, of duty and of glory; he has for years slumbered 
in a portentous trance: whilst the errors to which his book gave, 
temporary sanction and circulation, drew down denunciations 
from the tribunals of criticism: denunciations, echoed back, not 
by the profanum vulgus, merely, but by philanthropists and 
patriots, by sages and by saints: Whilst the " concave shores 
of Europe made awful replication" to the anathemas fulmi- 
nated at his devoted head, by the ministers of the gospel, from 
the temples of the living God: Whilst fathers and sons, and 
mothers and daughters, and brothers and sisters, and friends 
and lovers worthy to love and to be beloved, were giving utter- 
ance to the astonishment and horror, the disgust and dismay, 



Of Human Know ledge. 133 

endless duration, will essentially depend; upon belief or 
disbelief of the doctrines, and upon the conformity or re- 



with which his unhallowed delusions overwhelmed their souls: 
Whilst the thunder and lightning of human and divine wrath* 
were pealing and flashing around him, he has thrown himself 

On the ridgy steep 
Of a loose hanging rock To sleep: 

And slept so profoundly there, that it would seem as if the 
voice only which said, " Lazarus come forth!" could reach his 
death-deafened ear. 

It has been urged in his behalf, that in the preface to St. 
Leon, he has expressly recanted some of the errors contained 
in his " Political Justice," and that this novel was composed 
and published, for the purpose of operating as an antidote to the 
evils, which these errors might have done. Bootless expedient! 
abortive antidote! The " bane," but not the " antidote, is still 
before" us. Was a preface to a novel the place? Was a novel 
the suitable vehicle for the recantation of errors, which had 
been defended by specious and solemn sophistry, and powerful 
eloquence, in two ample volumes! and circulated for years, in 
that imposing shape, throughout the most civilized countries, 
of either hemisphere? 

It was not in this reverie of remorse; by the cosmetics of 
artificial rhetoric; in the toy-shop of phantastic fiction; that he 
could wipe " out so foul a sfiot" Could the taint and guilt of 
errors that had " incarnadined the multitudinous waves" of 
opinion in the ocean of living mind, be " washed clean" by 
ablution in the oblivious and polluted pool, of an immoral and 
improbable romance? 

It was the mockery of recantation: The idle mummery of 
pennance, not the healing pang of penitence: The wretched 
compromise of vanity and pride, in the market of popularity; 
not the self-denying, self-condemning immolation of vanity and 
pride, at the altar of justice: 



134 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

pugnancy of human motives and actions, to the precepts 
of the gospel: it follows, that unshaken faith in its doctrines; 



It was the recusation of genius, to sacrifice its spurious 
offspring, at the command of God! 

But the supineness and degeneracy of authors, are no ade- 
quate apology, for the supineness and degeneracy of readers: 
When a book is published, its contents become public property. 
It is the duty of intelligent readers to separate the truths it con- 
tains, from the errors by which they may be alloyed; to appro- 
priate the one, and reject the other. It is too, far more em- 
phatically the duty of readers, to distinguish and separate truth 
from error, in the contents of the books they peruse; than of the 
author to detect and retract the errors, which he may have com- 
mitted. The injury which the public sustain, from the indis- 
criminate reprobation, or unmeasured censure of a book, in 
which pernicious errors are blended with important truths, is 
almost infinitely greater in amount, than the injury done to the 
author, and for reasons too obvious to need illustration. 

Again, therefore, and with added earnestness and emphasis, 
the writer repeats, that the indiscriminate reprobation and un- 
measured censure of " Political Justice," have been too long 
and too tamely endured by the censors of literary desert and 
delinquency, and the awarders of literary justice. 

In the injustice done to this work, although the author of 
this essay has participated less than others, yet he has partici- 
pated too much. The melancholy reflection that he has, in 
this instance, participated in common with the most illustrious 
of his contemporaries, far from softening, ought to sharpen and 
does sharpen, his sorrow and self-disapprobation. " Let this 
expiate!" 

The writer trusts, that he is as deeply and sincerely con- 
scious of the insignificance of his estimate of the merits or deme- 
rits of this, or of any other book, as any of his readers can be, or, 
wish him to be. But he would have experienced feelings, more 
painful, because more humiliating than the consciousness of in- 
tellectual insignificance, had he forborn this notice of Political 



Of Human Knowledge, 135 

and conformity, ( so far as the imperfections of human na- 
ture will permit,) in human practice, to its precepts; is the 
summumbonum, the greatest good within the reach of man. 

Justice. What! write and publish in the American republic, 
and at an aera so enlightened, an " Essay on Human Knowledge," 
and omit to notice a book, which has given a systematic and 
scientific " form and pressure," to the very knowledge, which 
it is the boast of this age to have cultivated and circulated, and 
the glory and happiness of the American people, to have em- 
bodied and reduced to practice, in their constitutions, codes and 
civil relations! 

The writer will close this notice of the " Political Justice" 
by quoting one or two sentences from a letter, which Mr. God- 
win addressed to the writer; in reply to one, which (without any 
other knowledge of him than his book supplied,) the writer had 
previously taken the liberty to address to him, soon after the 
Political Justice had begun to circulate in Virginia. 

" There are very few indeed of the opinions with which I 
u trouble the world, respecting which I am not exceedingly 
" doubtful: I can boast only of being a careful and laborious in- 
" quirer. You are young, and will detect yourself in many er- 
" rors. Be upon your guard, (if I may presume to advise you,) 
" lest any thing of this sort, shake the firmness of your temper. 

" 'Tis the property of ordinary minds, to fly from one ex- 
" treme to another: 'Tis the property of genius, though it fail, 
u to rise again: Though it suffer defeat, to persist; and though 
" obliged to alter and modify many of its judgments; never to 
" part, with the clearness of spirit, which attended their for- 
" mation." 

The writer cannot forbear to add, that amidst all the vicissi- 
tudes of fortune, in a pursuit (from its novelty, delicacy and dif- 
ficulty) peculiarly exposed to such vicissitudes; amidst the lan- 
gour of hopeless debility, and the solitude of a sick bed; in the 
gripe and under the petrifying stare of the " dim-eyed fiend, 
sour melancholy;" this benevolent and noble admonition, has 
" whispered peace," and even hope, to his heart: Has rekindled 



1 36 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

It follows too, that, as the purpose of God, (so far as it 
can be scanned by the light of reason and revelation,) in 
the creation of the universe, as the final cause of creation 
was, the production of happiness: and as the doctrines and 
precepts of Christianity, are believed to be a special, ex- 
press, and miraculous revelation of the will of God; the rules 
prescribed in the gospel, as essential to the eternal, are 
essential also to the temporal happiness, of his rational 
creatures: And, although the habitual observance of these 
rules, is the best security for temporal happiness, so far as 
it is attainable; and affords the most effectual means of 
avoiding temporal misery, so far as it is avoidable; or of 
supporting it with constancy, where it is unavoidable; yet 
that these rules derive their most efficient sanctions, their 
operative energy as motives; from the hope of salvation and 
the dread of perdition, in a future and endless existence, in 
another world, and in another state of existence.* 

the love of life, and healed the " hurt mind," under circum- 
stances full of difficulty and disconsolation; and kept the flame 
of enthusiasm burning, and burning genially and brightly, in 
an atmosphere alternately azotic and inflammable; alternately, 
" bathing the delighted spirit in fiery floods," and congealing 

" In thick-ribb*d regions of thrilling ice," 
its morbid sensibilities. 

* On this foundation, as on a rock of adamant, rests the 
preeminent importance of faith, in the fabric of Christian 
Ethics, as an antidote to the contagion, of impiety and im- 
morality, as a security for happiness, here, and hereafter. On 
a mind destitute of faith, revealed religion must be wholly 
inoperative: without a firm and unshaken faith, Christianity 
can impart no motive, impress no conviction, awaken no emo- 



Of Human Knozvledge. 137 

Although the inviolable observance of moral rules, is in 
avery instance the duty of man, as it regards temporal hap- 



tion. Destitute of faith, the human mind, however gifted by 
genius, or, graced by science and letters, is deaf to the warn- 
ing voice of the " word of God," and blind to the glorious pros- 
pects, which religion has revealed. 

To the owlish eye of infidelity, the divine light of the gos- 
pel, is blacker than Egyptian darkness: to the annunciation of 
the joys of heaven, and the horrors of hell, infidelity listens with 
the smile of contempt, or, the scowl of derision. Where faith 
is wanting, all is wanting: to a mind, destitute of faith , Christi- 
anity seems a legend; its prophecies, the ravings of phrenzy, 
or, a sick man's dreams; its ritual, mummery; its miracles, the 
tricks of a juggler; its promises of rewards, and its menaces of 
punishment, in a future state, and in another world, the artifices, 
by which an empiric vends his nostrums: without faith, Hea- 
ven and Hell, are regarded as other names, for Tartarus and 
Elysium: without faith, God the Father, God the Son, and 
God the Holy Ghost, sink down to a level with Jupiter, with 
Neptune, and with Pluto. 

To extend the blessed empire of religious faith; to esta- 
blish and confirm its ascendancy: to habituate the mind to dwell 
on the " things not seen, of which it is the evidence;" and the 
heart to anticipate, " the things hoped for, of which it is the 
substance;" is therefore a primary and cardinal, nay, is not this, 
the primary and cardinal duty of the Christian preacher? Is not 
the faithful and successful execution of this duty, the best work, 
which the ministers of the Gospel can do; the most acceptable 
service which the Christian preacher can render, in the sight of 
God, or, man? 

Few questions have been more zealously discussed, than the 
question, " whether faith or works, are most essential to salva- 
tion:" In other words, " whether a particular event, or, train of 
events, depends most on a certain cause, or, on the necessary 
effect of that cause:" Good works are the necessary effects, 

s 



138 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

piness, and would be perceived and acknowledged to be his 
duty, could all the consequences of his actions, in every pos- 



the spontaneous emanations of Christian faith, the only satis- 
factory and unequivocal evidence of its sincerity and vitality. 
" Faith, without works, is dead:" " By their fruits, shall you 
know them:" " The tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, shall 
be hewn down, and cast into the jire:" " Not every one that 
saith unto me, Lord! Lord! but he that doeth my will, shall en- 
ter into the kingdom of Heaven:" These are, amongst the many 
texts of the same import, that ratify by the decree, and verify 
by the " word of God" himself, (so far as those mysterious de- 
crees can be announced, or, that holy word can be communica- 
ted, by the language of man:) ratify and verify the doctrine, that 
good works are the necessary effects, the only unequivocal 
proof in the sight of man, and the only acceptable, or, saving 
evidence, in the sight of God; of the sincerity and vitality of 
Christian faith. 

" Whom God has joined, let no man put asunder." Faith 
and works, as co- essential to salvation, are wedded by the will 
and Word of God; and impious is the impotence, blasphemous the 
tongue, and unhallowed the hand, that would divorce them. It 
must be remembered, too, that whilst faith is admitted by the 
most profound theologians, (by Locke himself,) to be an act of 
the understanding, an act, essentially involuntary; they regard 
works, as acts of the will, as acts essentially voluntary and op- 
tional; and by necessary consequence, they regard good works 
as the spontaneous emanations, the necessary effects, the pro- 
per evidence, of Christian faith. 

Farther, as the understanding of a fallen and fallible being, 
may be corrupted by prejudice and maligned by error, it fol- 
lows, that although truth, and even divine truth, may shed its 
blessed light without impressing faith on minds benighted 
by ignorance, or, blinded by sophistry; as the solar ray may 
shine without exciting vision, as, even the sun's meridian blaze, 
may seem midnight darkness to a diseased or enfeebled eye; 



Of Human Knowledge, 139 

sible case, be accurately analyzed and impartially weighed; 
yet as he is liable, from the irritations of sense, the parti- 
yet faith can no more exist, without good works, than the sun 
can exist without sunshine, a fountain without a stream, or, 
an effect without a cause. It must be remembered, too, that 
accountability, implies volition and option. 

On the unhappy minds that reject, and avow their rejection 
of religious faith, the sanctions of religion, cannot be expected 
to operate. In doing good, or, eschewing evil; they can be go- 
verned only, by a regard to temporal happiness, or, misery. 

Around the sensible horizon, that circumscribes the sphere 
of intellectual vision to the sceptic's eye, the grave wraps its 
impervious and eternal darkness: in that dismal horizon, no 
morning breaks, no star twinkles, no meteor gleams: round that 
soul-chilling horizon, the gulf of annihilation, dark, cold, shore- 
less, and bottomless, for ever yawns. 

To what extent, the conscientious sceptic may be the object 
of divine mercy, at the last tremendous day, is matter of awful 
and inscrutable uncertainty; an uncertainty, that exposes in the 
strongest and clearest light, the guilt, the folly, the madness, 
I had almost said, of a precipitate, or, unprincipled rejection, of 
the doctrines of revealed religion.* 

But hopeless indeed, must be the condition of the practical 
hypocrite, whose actions give the lie to his words; who solemnly 
professes to believe, that his eternal salvation depends on the 
observance of rules, in the deliberate and habitual violation of 
which, he " lives, and moves, and has his being;" who uttereth 
the " word of God," but " worketh iniquity;" who bends his knee 
in the temple of Jehovah, but worships Mammon in his heart; 
whose actions prove, that he secretly regards devotion as mum- 
mery and mockery; who, by his life, defies and braves his 

* The writer has endeavoured to illustrate this momentous subject, more 
folly and impressively, towards the close of his oration, entitled, " The In?isi- 
hle Judge." 



140 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

ality of self love, the illusions of imagination, and the intox- 
ication of passion; to prefer the lesser good and reject the 

Creator to execute the penalties, which he has denounced in 
the Gospel, against the violators of his laws. 

On this foundation too, pulpit oratory rests its claims, to 
supernal and unapproachable pre-eminence. 

In establishing by " afiriori" reasoning, the existence of a God; 
in tracing the analogies, betwixt the dispensations of divine pro- 
vidence, as they are manifested, in this world, to the view of 
human reason; and in the world to come, as they are unfolded 
by revelation; in developing and illustrating the external and 
internal evidences of the divine origin of Christianity;* human 
genius and human reason, may exert and exhaust, all the en- 
ergy, penetration, subtility and comprehension with which they 
can be endowed, or are, or may become, capable of attaining. 
Human literature and science, are but the wardrobe and 
armory of the enlightened theologian. Every advancing step of 
human reason in the region of the knowable; every heavenward 
flight of genius; like the Urim and Thummim, on the breast- 
plate of the Jewish Hierarch, reflect back the ineffable glory of 
the Shekinah, on the sacred desk, and touch the lips of its hal- 

* On these momentous subjects, there are in our language, and there are, 
or will be, in the languages of every civilized nation, three works; which stand, 
like " rocks, amid the waste of ages:" Clark " on the Divine Attributes," 
a Butler's Analogy, 5 ' and "the Preliminary Dissertations" to a " Translation of 
the Four Gospels," by the profound, the learned, the amiable, the candid, the 
sainted Campbell. Were an assembly of sages called together, for the pur- 
pose of presenting to a being of a superior order, a specimen of what the hu- 
man mind is capable of achieving, in the highest state of capacity and cul- 
tivation, to which it has hitherto attained; they would probably select, these 
three immortal works. Campbell's work stands indeed like a rock, " amidst 
the waste of ages," 



and, 



" Though round its breast, the rolling clouds are spread 
* Eternal sunshine settles on its head." 



Of Human Knowledge. 141 

lesser evil, and even to prefer evil to good, it follows, also, 
that the hope of divine approbation, and of eternal happi- 



lowed ministers, with fire from heaven. Every discovery or im- 
provement in physical, mathematical and moral science; every 
inspired and inspiring effusion of the heavenly muse, supply 
additional evidences of the truth of the doctrines of natural and 
revealed religion; embellishments for pulpit oratory more 
costly and attractive, a constant succession of striking and 
appropriate illustrations; and explain the " word of God," re- 
corded in the sacred scriptures, by the signatures of the finger 
of Omnipotence, in the wondrous workmanship of Creation. 

In shadowing forth too, all the varieties of pleasure and pain, 
of happiness and misery; which disembodied and immortal spi- 
rits, are destined hereafter to enjoy and to endure, " according 
to the deeds done in the body;" imagination has a scope for the 
exercise and display of its peculiar powers; that is in its very 
essence, exhaustless and illimitable: Subjects for a strain of 
overwhelming and tremendous declamation, with which no 
other oratory that proceeds from mortal lips, can be compared 
in solemnity, majesty and grandeur: materials for the fabrica- 
tion of weapons, which skilfully wielded, penetrate the most 
obdurate and remorseless heart. 

The intensity of emotion, which such a strain of pulpit ora- 
tory, is capable of awakening and sustaining in the minds of an 
audience of sincere Christians, is as inconceivable by an infidel, 
as, the emotions excited in the mind of one, who sees the vivid 
flashes of lightning, and listens to the solemn peals of thunder, 
are, by a human being, who has from his birth, been blind and 
deaf. 

Descriptions of the happiness to be enjoyed, or the misery 
to be endured, in Tartarus and Elysium, affect us littie; and as 
motives to action, are wholly inoperative; from our conviction of 
their irreality, and the sentiment of disbelief, mingled with a 
feeling of alienation and disgust, with which that sentiment is, 
perhaps, necessarily associated. 



142 On the Mature, Extent, and Limits 

ness; the dread of divine disapprobation and of eternal 
misery, are the only motives; which can, at all times, and in 



But the unshaken faith, rooted in the mind of every Chris- 
tian, in the existence of a God, who created and sustains the 
universe, and controls its laws; in the immortality of the soul, 
and in a future state of rewards and punishments in Heaven 
and Hell, imparts to such descriptions, when delivered from the 
pulpit, with adequate solemnity and energy, an unresisted sway; 
not only over the feelings and passions, but over the inmost 
feelings and master-passions, of the human heart. 

It is perfectly notorious, that the most extravagant effusions, 
of the most phrenzied fanaticism, and delivered in a style and 
manner, the most offensive to cultivated taste, will make an in- 
finitely more powerful and permanent impression on the minds 
of an audience, who accord in opinion and sentiment with the 
preacher; than the most finished, affecting, and instructive dra- 
matic fiction, (Shakspeare's Macbeth, for instance, even when 
acted by Kembie and Siddons,) on the minds of a refined and 
intelligent audience. 

If such " strange horrors, such pangs unfelt before, seized" 
rude and unlettered minds; when such a monster as Lorenzo 
Dow, " dashed his miscreated front athwart their way;" and 
frowned so grimiy, " that Hell grew darker at his frown:" who 
can set bounds to the good that may be done, the victories over 
sin and Satan, that may be achieved; by the Porteuses and the 
Halls, by the Chalmerses and the Allisons, of the old; or, by 
the Kollocks and the Masons, of the New World. 

But it is not the sole province of the pulpit orator, to ex- 
patiate on future rewards and punishments, on the hopes and 
fears of an endless existence, beyond the grave. He may range 
over the whole field of speculative and practical ethics: He 
may depict the " many coloured scenes" of human life, scru- 
tinize the secret motives by which men are impelled to act, 
and unravel, as with a clue, the minutest and remotest conse- 
quences of their actions. 



Of Human Knowledge. 143 

all situations, enable man to resist temptation and defy the 
tempter. 



He may elucidate the true theory of morals; and annihilate 
the Satanic sophistry, that is intended, or, has a tendency, to 
confound the nature, or, obscure the boundaries of virtue and 
vice; to taint the life-blood, and wither the nerve of moral sen- 
sibility; to stifle, or, suborn the voice of conscience: He may 
prove, how essentially, in every condition of human life, whether 
prosperous, or, adverse; in every station, whether humble, or, 
exalted; nature has identified happiness, (or, that inward con- 
sciousness, which, in every external situation, is most desira- 
ble,) with piety and virtue. 

It is his holy, undivided and uncommiinicable privilege, to 
promote the practice of piety and virtue; by suggesting and 
impressing motives the most operative, that the Creator him- 
self, through the medium of recorded precept and example, 
can propose; to enlighten, to warn, and regenerate mankind! 

To persons in whose minds, an unshaken faith in the doc- 
trines of Christianity is rooted; the cogency of these motives 
could scarcely be increased; were the beatitude and glory of 
heaven, the torments and terrors of hell, to break for an instant, 
through the " veil of their mortality." 

To the Christian preacher it belongs! through the medium 
of an impassioned, solemn and sublime oratory; to awaken in 
the minds of his auditors, a vivid presentiment and foretaste 
of sensations, the actual visitation of which; no spirit, embodied 
in corruptible matter, could for a moment, endure and live! 

It is his holy office, on the Sabbath of the Lord, from conse- 
crated pulpits and in spacious temples: In the presence of as- 
sembled and assenting millions; baptised in the name of the Sa- 
viour of mankind, initiated in the doctrines, and educated in the 
faith, of the religion which he revealed: Suspending their 
worldly pleasures and pursuits; simultaneously congregated, 
and silently seated in these temples, for the purpose of listening 
to his expositions, exhortations and admonitions. 



144 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

The probability of a divine revelation is, therefore, de- 
ducible a priori, from the attributes of God and the nature 



It is his evangelical office! from pulpits elevated like his 
function between heaven and earth; in places so holy! that they 
are, or ought to be, entered only by the worshippers and for 
the worship of God! in the view and hearing of a majority of 
every existing generation, of both sexes, and at every stage of 
existence from helpless infancy to hoary age; hushed into still- 
ness, awed into adoration! as if they sensibly felt the omnipre- 
sence of their Creator; to whose word they are about to listen, 
and on whose minister their eyes are fixed. 

It is this godly office! on this awful occasion! when rational 
and immortal beings, averting their attention from the interests 
of mortality, the concerns of time, and their relations to each 
other; are overpowered by a sense of their dependance on their 
" Father who is in Heaven," and by the hopes and fears awa- 
kened by the prospect of an endless existence, beyond the 
grave. 

At this soul-awakening moment! when the proudest monarch, 
and the poorest slave, bend their suppliant knees, and lift their 
adoring eyes, with equal humility, to the " King of Kings:'* the 
ministers of the gospel, have sworn to confederate their efforts, 
to fortify the souls of their brethren " against the sins, that most 
easily beset them;" to strengthen and confirm in their minds 
a persuasion of the unspeakable importance of that faith, and 
as its saving evidence, of those works, which are essential to 
salvation. 

To every human being, on whose mind a sincere faith in the 
truth of these doctrines, is impressed; how frivolous! how unaf- 
fecting! must all other oratory seem, in comparison with that of 
the pulpit; invested with the sublimity and mightiness, of which 
it is susceptible. 

To the sincere believer, whilst listening to this awful ora- 
tory, as from the hallowed lips of a consummate preacher, it 
unfolds the arcana of eternity, and the destinies of immortal 



Of Human Knowledge, 1 45 

fcf man, from the perfect benevolence and goodness of " our 
Father who is in Heaven," and the essential imperfections 
and infirmities, of his children upon earth. 

From this view of the subject we may deduce an answer 
to Mr. Hume's celebrated argument, against the truth of the 
miracles recorded in the New Testament, and an answer 
that will carry conviction, to every conscientious believer, 
in the existence of God* 

The answer may be stated thus: 
The laws of nature, as they operate in this quarter of the uni- 
verse, and are exhibited to the view of human reason, have 
been established by the power of God: But the same omni- 
potence that established, can suspend or control the laws of 
nature: Were the Fiat " Let light cease to be," to issue, it 
would be obeyed as instantaneously as the beneficent Fiat, 
that called light into being: But the divine benevolence ma- 
nifested in the creation of man in a state of innocence and 
happiness, would be still more emphatically manifested by a 
special revelation of the divine will for the purpose of pos- 
sible restoration to the state from which he has fallen; and of 
possible participation in the happiness, to which by volun- 
tary disobedience, he has forfeited his claim: A special reve- 
lation of the divine will for this blessed purpose, is not only 
rendered probable, but in the highest degree possible, by the 



man, the revolutions of yonder luminaries, must seem but the 
movements of an Orrery! The phenomena of nature, but the 
phantoms of a raree-show! The interests of this world, but the 
fiastimes of infancy! Mortal man, but a shadow! Human life, 
Mit a dream! 

T 



146 On the Nature, Extent, and Limits 

acknowledged and essential attributes of Deity; Divine be* 
nevolence would incline Divine Omnipotence, to make a 
revelation of the Divine will, for this purpose: But this 
revelation could be made, only by suspending or controlling 
the pre-established laws of nature, or, in other words, by 
working miracles: A suspension or control of the esta- 
blished laws of nature by the Fiat of Omnipotence in time 
past, is, therefore, in the highest degree probable: But the 
suspension or control of the laws of nature could be mani- 
fested to man, only through the medium of the organs, and 
by impressions on these organs, similar to those that made 
known the pre-established course of these laws; and these 
manifestations, could be made known to the human beings 
who did not witness, by the human beings who did wit- 
ness them; solely through the medium of testimony, trans- 
mitted by history and tradition: But it is within the com- 
petence of testimony, to establish the proof of every thing 
probable: human testimony is, therefore, competent to es- 
tablish the truth of miracles* 

The improbability of miracles, therefore, as evidence of 
the truth of a divine revelation, and the incompetence of 
human testimony to establish the truth of such miracles; can 
be maintained only by atheists; and can be founded only 
on disbelief in the existence of God. 

Hume's argument on the subject of miracles, is an in- 
valuable addition to the principles of philosophical logic; 
and furnishes a golden rule, in determining the credibility 
and weight of human testimony, historical, or, traditionary, 
dead, or, living; with regard to the established course of 
nature* the ordinary progress of cause and effect: but is 



Of Human Knowledge. 147 

wholly inapplicable to human testimony, in support of a 
divine revelation; if such a revelation is admitted to be 
probable: and the probability of such a revelation can be 
denied, or, even doubted, by an atheist only. 

Lastly; From the preceding analysis, of the relation of 
cause and effect, we are led by analogy, to infer; that the 
original rank of every order of created intelligent beings, 
in the universe, essentially depends, on the perfection of 
their organization; on the acuteness and variety of the 
senses, by which they receive impressions from material 
objects, and the consequent compass, grandeur, and ener- 
gy of their mental powers: On the extent, to which they 
are capable of unravelling the chain of cause and effect, 
and the consequent extent of the power which they pos- 
sess, of controlling the actions of beings of inferior capaci- 
ty, and the movements of insentient matter. 

We may infer, too, that the stage, in the development 
of their faculties, at which any order of intelligent beings, 
throughout the universe, have actually arrived, or at which, 
they may hereafter arrive; the approximation they have 
made, or may hereafter make, to the highest degree of ex- 
cellence, which they are capable of attaining, will be deter- 
mined by the perfection and variety of their organic capa- 
cities; the ardour, steadiness, and skill, with which they 
have developed and exercised their intellectual faculties; 
and the length of time that may have elapsed, or may here- 
after elapse, from the sra at which they commenced their 
career, to the present time, and from the present time, tiR 
"TIME SHALL BE NO MORE." 



ESSAY in. 

ON THE MODERN ABUSE OF MORAL FICTION, IN THE SHAPfc 
OF NOVELS. 

How many rare and precious endowments of nature! 
How many scarcely less rare and precious advantages of 
education, must unite with opportunities, for close obser- 
vation of all the varieties of the human character, to ac- 
complish a genius, capable of giving to the world a model 
of moral fiction, or, in other words, capable of writing, a 
Valuable novel! 

Countless as is the multitude of novels, that have issued; 
and endless as is the succession, that continues to issue 
from the press; how small is the number! which innocence 
can read with impunity, modesty without a blush, taste 
without disgust, philosophy without scorn, and piety with- 
out offence! 

Vainly would the moralist ransack the shelves of cir- 
culating libraries; vainly, even explore the most secret 
and precious hoards of literary treasure, in search of a no- 
vel; which, whilst it reflects, " as in a mirror," the many 
coloured scenes of life, and all the varieties of character, 
directs the reader's eye to the moral standard; by the ap- 
plication of which, we are taught to distinguish in those 
many-coloured scenes, what ought to be pursued, and what 
to be shunned; and amongst those varieties of character, 
what ought to be approved or condemned in the contem- 
plations of the closet, copied or contrasted in the conduct 



Of Moral Fiction. 149i 

©f life: a novel, in the perusal of which, the feelings of the 
heart are harmonized, and the deductions of reason guided; 
by a sublime and ennobling Ethics. 

In forming and accomplishing a mind, adequate to exe- 
cute so arduous an undertaking; nature, education, and for- 
tune, must lavish their richest gifts. 

What skill and felicity in the use of language, what a 
prompt and perfect command of all the varieties of style 
and expression, must the author of such a work, not only 
have the capacity for acquiring, but have actually acquired! 
What deep insight into the human character, not only in its 
invariable features, but in all the anomalous forms it as- 
sumes, from temperament, organization, situation, and 
habit! What delicacy of moral perception! What penetra- 
tion, in detecting the latent, and analyzing the mixed mo- 
tives of action! What impartiality and discrimination, in 
estimating the various kinds and degrees of merit and de- 
merit, virtue and vice! What wisdom, in discovering the 
essential constituents of happiness, and the external cir- 
cumstances most auspicious to their combination and de- 
velopment! What inventive skill, in preserving the veri- 
similitude of character and action, without becoming tedi- 
ous and tame; in awakening, at the commencement, and 
keeping alive, during the progress of fictitious narrative, a 
lively curiosity, an intense interest, without violating the 
analogies of nature; or, by too close an adherence to real 
life, emitting a light, that may enable the reader, to antici- 
pate the catastrophe, long before it is unfolded! What mo- 
ral art, in preventing, on the one hand, the virtues and ac- 



150 On the Modern Abuse 

complishments of a character, admirable and lovely in its 
leading features, from imparting a seductive attraction to 
the infirmities and vices with which the fairest portrait of 
human virtue must be shaded, to render it interesting and 
natural! And on the other; in preventing the abhorrence 
excited by abandoned profligacy, from suppressing, in the 
bosom of the reader, every feeling of commiseration and 
sorrow, towards its infatuated, remorseless, and supremely 
miserable victims! What nice discernment, in knowing 
when to suspend the narrative, at the moment, when a ju- 
dicious reflection, may be most forcibly brought home to 
the understanding; an affecting sentiment, or, salutary ad- 
monition, may sink deepest into the heart, of the reader! 

" But fools rush in, where angels fear to tread." 

This new, delicate, and difficult department of literature, 
in which a modern author can find neither models for imita- 
tion, nor lessons for his instruction, in the remains of clas- 
sical antiquity; in which even Homer and Virgil, (were 
they to re-appear on earth,) would tremble to challenge 
the palm of excellence; is precisely that, in which every 
necessitous scribbler, every literary idler, every intellec- 
tual dwarf, thinks itself qualified to shine. 

Persons, and especially young persons, accustomed from 
their earliest years, to indulge an idle and illiberal curiosity, 
to talk without thinking, to feel without conscience, to read 
without selection, to observe without discrimination, to 
admire " without knowledge," and act without moral con- 
trol; whose imaginations have been pampered into habitual 



Of Moral Fiction. 15* 

reverie and day-dream, and whose passions have been 
inflamed into delirious enthusiasm, while their understand- 
ings have been drugged into lethargy; and whose sensibili- 
ties have become morbid from the infection of a diseased 
imagination, conceive themselves qualified to write novels! 

The melancholy delusion of this class of authors, would 
be as short-lived as their works; and although it might oc- 
casionally provoke the lash of satire, or the smile of ridi- 
cule, could scarcely excite serious alarm, or deserve a 
" grave rebuke;" had not the press transformed the Eden 
of classical literature " into an unweeded garden." And 
"unweeded" must that garden be; teeming with whatever 
is " rank and gross in nature," till national education, (the 
only faithful and efficient ally of a free press; the sole secu- 
rity for the permanence, and dispenser of the promised bles- 
sings of republican liberty,) shall more firmly establish and 
widely extend its beneficent influence. 

And portentous, surely, is the aspect of this delusion, 
at an aera; when such a multitude of readers, derive not 
idle amusement merely, but almost their only mental ali- 
ment from the perusal of these novels: Readers, too, pre- 
cisely at that period of life; in that stage of intellectual im- 
provement, and condition in society, when the effect of in- 
judicious reading, is most likely to be irreparably noxious. 

No intelligent moralist, instructor, patriot, or parent, 
can view, without disgust and dismay, the myriad of un- 
fledged and famished minds; destitute of the raiment and 
w daily bread" of knowledge, that flutter and shiver, 

•' Like naked, wandering, melancholy ghosts!" 



152 On the Modern Abuse 

round the shelves of circulating libraries, and seek momen- 
tary relief from indolence and ennui, or satiate their rage 
for novelty and their love of wonder, in the Limbo of un- 
real and immoral fiction. 

The authors of such productions, rest their hopes of 
success on a foundation, which is, it must be acknowledged, 
deep and durable; credulity and love of wonder. What- 
ever the original capacity of the mind, or the stage of intel- 
lectual improvement, at which it is ultimately destined to ar- 
rive, may be; there is an intermediate and early stage, in 
the development of its faculties, during which, credulity 
and the love of wonder, necessarily predominate. 

After it has become distinctly conscious of its own ener- 
gies, and curiously observant of external phenomena, some 
time must elapse, (even in a situation the most auspicious 
to intellectual improvement,) before it can obtain sufficient 
knowledge of the relation of cause and effect to generalize 
facts; to anticipate the future with the " mind's eye;" to 
associate its belief or disbelief, and modify the assurance 
or hesitation with which it believes, disbelieves or doubts; 
according to the laws and analogies of experience and 
science. 

When the mind arrives, and whilst it remains, at this 
stage, in the development of its faculties, the order of cause 
and effect is constantly transposed and violated by imagi- 
nation; and the wildest combinations, the most extraordi- 
nary succession of events; seem nearly as congruous and 
credible, as those that are most obvious to the senses, and 
familiar to the memory. 



On Moral Fiction, 153 

Such combinations too, arresting attention by their 
novelty; fixing the gaze of " young astonishment," awa- 
kening a vivid and unworn sensibility, by their sublimity, 
grandeur or other affecting qualities, and accompanied 
by the momentary consciousness of superhuman power; 
necessarily inspire emotions pleasurable, and even rap- 
turous. 

A more extended knowledge of the chain of cause and 
effect, by leading the mind to associate impressions of dis- 
belief and improbability with whatever is contrary to the 
results of analysis, and the analogies of cause and effect; 
subjects imagination to the discipline of reason, and reason 
to the power of truth: converts trusting credulity into cau- 
tious scepticism; the love of the wonderful into disgust at 
the improbable; the consciousness of extraordinary power, 
into a conviction of impotence and ignorance, and the fairy- 
land of enchanted and enchanting fancy, into the Limbo of 
incredible chimaera, and contemptible folly. 

Unfortunately, however, that stage in the develop- 
ment of the faculties of the human mind, where credulity 
and the love of wonder predominate; is the stage, at which, 
an immense majority of the human species have been, and 
at which, a decreasing but still immense majority, are at 
this time; permanently arrested. 

It is to be feared, therefore, that the authors of works 
of fiction, however monstrous, will always secure a mul- 
titude of delighted and admiring readers: It is even to be 
feared, that the portentous multiplication, the more extend- 
ed dispersion, and the more rapid circulation of such pro- 



154 On the Modem Abuse 

ductions, is a part and a heavy part too, of the price that 
must be paid; for the most valuable of all the inventions of 
man, the art of printing; and for the security of the right of 
rights, the freedom of the press. 

Nor must it be forgotten, that credulity and the love of 
wonder, are usually, and perhaps necessarily connected, 
with an insensibility to the purer and finer embellishments 
of style, with a coarseness and vulgarity of taste; to which 
the glaring, oriental and inflated pomp of diction, will al- 
ways be more gratifying, than Attic simplicity or Addiso- 
nian elegance. 

When these considerations are duly weighed; the tem- 
porary popularity of the most pestilent and extravagant 
novel, will surprise us little. 

By portraying characters not in their features merely, 
but in their very elements, monstrous; to which neither his- 
tory, biography, nor real life, present archetypes or copies: 
by placing these phantoms of dream, delirium and reverie, 
in situations barely possible, and possible only by almost 
supernatural agency: by relating incidents separately in 
the highest degree improbable, and grouped in an order so 
unnatural as to set credibility at defiance; in a style that 
spurns every rule of chaste composition and shocks every 
feeling of cultivated taste: In spite of these enormous faults, 
(even one of which, ought to sink any literary production 
immediately, and for ever, to the very bottom of the oblivi- 
ous pool:) nay, in consequence of these faults, the authors 
of these monstrous fictions, succeed in satisfying the raven- 
ous curiosity, and astounding the credulous and wondering 



Of Moral Fiction. 155 

minds, of a mob of readers; who estimate the excellence of 
fiction by its extravagance, and feel it to be attractive, in 
proportion as it is terrific; (" as it quells their hearts with 
grateful terror, and congeals their breath into shivering 
sighs,") and to whose unrefined taste, the sounding and 
bombastic jargon in which it is muffled; seems to be the 
very perfection of elegance, eloquence and pathos. 

The baneful tendencies of such productions, cannot fail 
to strike every reflecting mind. 

With the sober and sagacious observers of life and 
manners, (who estimate the moral value of whatever, in a 
marked manner affects social happiness, rather by the 
effects it does, than by those it may produce;) the circula- 
tion, and prevalence of such productions, brings moral 
fiction itself into disrepute. 

Nothing is more usual, than to hear from persons emi- 
nent for vigour of intellect and extent of information; a 
stern and unqualified reprobation of novels. Such unmea- 
sured censure is surely unwise: It is essential to all physi- 
cal and moral agents of extraordinary efficacy and power, 
to be susceptible of adverse directions; to be equalty 
tractable and efficient, (according to the end which, they 
are employed to accomplish), in the production of good or 
evil; and to exhibit evidence of their intrinsic energy, in 
their perversion and abuse. 

But the elucidation of this subject belongs more pro- 
perly to the succeeding essay. 

A second and most pernicious effect of such productions 
is, to debauch the understandings, the taste and moral sen- 



156 On the Modern Abuse 

tiinents, of that numerous and therefore most interesting 
class, in every civilized society, whose opportunities for 
the cultivation of intellect are necessarily scanty, and with 
whose integrity and intelligence; the well-being of civilized 
society, the security and practical blessings of liberty, the 
dignity of national character and the purity of national mo- 
rality; are more properly identified than connected. 

Viewed in this light, their pernicious influence is of 
sufficient magnitude, to arrest the attention, and deserve 
the solemn consideration of every reflecting mind. 

Whilst orators are exhausting all the energy of Attic, 
and all the pomp of Asiatic eloquence in their declamations^ 
Whilst poets are kindling into loftier than Mantuan or Moeo- 
nian raptures in their eulogies, on the power of the press: 
Whilst modern patriots are exulting in the possession of 
the intellectual treasures, which it secures from depreda- 
tion, and disburses with munificence: Whilst the champions 
of freedom are proudly buckling on the mail of adamant, 
and brandishing the burnished and terrific weapons, with 
which it sends them forth to battle, " conquering and to 
conquer:" Whilst philanthropists are fondly anticipating 
the defecated and diffusive good, which the press promises 
to dispense to future generations: Whilst philosophers 
are curiously analyzing, and nicely balancing the ever-vary- 
ing quantities of good and evil, which the press has pro- 
duced, and is producing: Whilst legislators are elaborately 
devising and applying, or, anxiously looking for means of 
securing the beneficent use; and for antidotes and correctives 
to the factious and profligate abuses of the press: It were 



Of Moral Fiction. 157 

well, if moralists would clearly develop, and sternly teach; 
(from the pulpit, the rostrum, and, above all, the press itself,) 
the peculiar duties; that devolve on every orator, bard, pa- 
triot and philosopher, who exist at a time, posterior to the 
invention of the art of printing: announce the solemn re- 
sponsibilities, that attach to every intelligent individual, 
who is by birth or adoption, the member of a civilized 
community; in which, the freedom of the press, is not only 
matter of inviolable right, but of inveterate habit. 

The instruction of the more numerous and dependent 
class, in every civilized society, is sacredly confided to the 
less numerous class; whose opportunities for the acquisi- 
tion of knowledge, (and for the development and exercise of 
the faculties, that give man a claim to dignity and domi- 
nion upon earth,) are more ample and auspicious. As the 
instruction of their children is the most important duty of 
intelligent parents; the instruction of the people is the most 
important duty of intelligent patriots, of the patres con- 
scripti. 

But duty is commensurate with capacity; and the sphere 
of duty is narrowed or extended, as the capacity to do 
good, or, avert evil; is abridged or amplified. 

Previous to the discovery of the compass, and the mo- 
dern improvements in ship building; it could not be the 
duty of the inhabitants of the old, to explore, colonize, and 
civilize, the new world: Nor could it be considered, as a 
part of their duty, to make exertions and sacrifices to pro- 
mote; or, even to cherish, a lively interest in the happiness 
of their fellow beings, existing in a condition, of which they 



258 On- the Modern Abuse 

had no knowledge; and in regions of the terraqueous globe, 
to which, they had no access. 

For similar reasons, it could not be the duty of philoso- 
phers to enlighten the world, nor of intelligent patriots to 
instruct their countrymen; at an aera, when knowledge con- 
tained solely in manuscripts; (like the artificial lights that 
dispel darkness from the abodes of man during the night,) 
shone only on the minds of a few solitary sages, or, within 
the narrow precincts of philosophical schools. 

But from the era, when the press superseded the sty- 
lus; when the volant leaf and all-pervading book, sup- 
planted the cumbrous and recondite scroll: when words, 
not poetically, but in fact, became the winged messengers 
of truth: when individual mind was enabled to communicate 
more knowledge, at the same moment, to millions of minds, 
(and more clearly and efficaciously,) than it could pre- 
viously impart, in years, to a few favoured and secluded 
disciples; from that ever memorable cera, it became not only 
the duty, but the prime duty, of patriotism, to instruct the 
people; of philosophy, to enlighten the world; to eman- 
cipate and bless mankind. 

From that asra it became the duty of ruling minds, in 
the construction and administration of government, and of 
legislators, in the enactment of fundamental and municipal 
laws, to secure, not to a majority merely, but to a con- 
stantly increasing majority; to the greatest possible num- 
ber of individuals, if possible to every individual, within 
'he sphere of their authority; (each, according to his ca- 



Of Moral Fiction. 159 

parity and place in society,) access to the daylight and 
" daily bread" of knowledge. 

From that sera, philanthropy and patriotism beheld a 
sublimer good; genius and generous ambition, a purer and 
more dazzling glory, within their grasp: It was no longer 
their comparatively humble province^ to revise and enrich 
merely the page of knowledge, and to disclose its precious 
contents, to a small circle of monastic students, or, specu- 
lative thinkers: They were not only permitted, and invited, 
but summoned! to assist, " in unrolling that ample page, 
rich with the spoils of time, to the eyes" of their contem- 
poraries, throughout the world; and of those w T ho were to 
come after them, " till time shall be no more." 

The import and tendency of these remarks, will not, 
the writer hopes, be misconceived by the young and in- 
genuous reader: He too well recollects, how deeply he suf- 
fered in an early part of his life, from indulging sanguine 
and delusive visions of perfectibility; to harbour a wish to 
lull the imagination of the young, even for a moment, into a 
day-dream, from which the terrible " truth of things," the 
sad realities of life; must so surely awaken the dreamer, how 
deep soever his slumber, and how richly soever, 

" His noon-tide trances/' may be " hung 

" With gorgeous tapestries, of pictured joys." 

God forbid! that he should harbour such a wish. 

" The sickness of the heart that arises from hope de- 
ferred;" the anguish inflicted by the disappointment of the 
most rational expectations, by the sudden and entire frus- 
tration of the most strenuous efforts to execute the best 



160 On the Modern Abuse 

concerted plans; is but a foretaste of the misery that awaits 
the youthful day-dreamer of perfectibility. 

God forbid! that he should consciously say aught, that 
had a tendency to expose the amiable and inexperienced 
mind to a malady; in the description of which, Armstrong 
has displayed rather the science of a pathologist, than 
the genius of a poet. 

" The sun grows pale, 
*' A mournful visionary light, o'erspreads 
" The cheerful face of Nature, earth becomes 
" A dreary desert, and heaven frowns above: 
" Then various shapes of curs'd illusion rise: 
" AH that the wretched fears, creative fear 
,e Forms out of nothing, and with monsters teems 
" Unknown in Hell! The prostrate soul beneath, 
" A load of huge imaginations heaves, 
" And all the horrors, that the guilty feel; 
" With anxious fluttering, shake the guiltless breast." 

If every philanthropist, patriot, and philosopher, now 
living; every individual belonging to that class, on whom 
Providence has devolved the duty of enlightening their 
countrymen and contemporaries, were to combine their 
efforts for this purpose; to employ every instrument, and 
call to their aid every auxiliary, which the progress of 
science and civilization have provided; the most benefi- 
cent possible result of their efforts, would serve only to de- 
monstrate, that oriental fictions were probable, the meta- 
morphoses of Ovid, rational, and the dogma of transub- 
stantiation an axiom; in comparison with the dreams of 
perfectibility. 

Were the most beneficent possible result of these efforts 
realized; pleasure and pain, good and evil, virtue and vice, 
truth and error, would still continue to assert their alter- 



Of Moral Fiction. 161 

nate ascendency; to maintain their divided empire; their fierce 
and ceaseless struggle for exclusive sway, in our world. 

In surveying the nature, the condition, and the prospects 
of mankind; " the heavenly muse" would still proclaim; 
with an inspiration, not less prophetic than poetical, 

" Man's feeble race, what ills await! 

Labour, and penury, and racks of pain, 

Disease, and sorrow's weeping train, 

And death, sad refuge, from the storms of fate!" 

The curse pronounced by an offended Creator, on his 
erring creature, that " he should earn his subsistence by 
the sweat of his brow;" would still fall heavily on the sons 
and daughters of apostate Adam* 

Genius would still feel, and touch that chord in the 
human heart that vibrated most truly, intensely, and uni- 
versally, in unison with its own agonizing feelings; when 
it sought to assuage their agony, by chanting the mournful 
dirge, 

*' Man was made to mourn." 

Virtue in poverty; in sickness; in bondage; in persecu- 
tion; in all the vicissitudes of life, and in the hour of death; 
would still look anxiously beyond the grave, for " another 
and a better world." 

So terrible, so portentous are the ills of life, (in the hap- 
piest possible condition of human society, to which we can 
rationally look forward;) that but for the assured anticipa- 
tion of that " better world;" the condition of guilt would 
often be preferable in the eye of self-love, to that of inno- 



162 On the Modern Abase 

cence: But for this assured anticipation, piety itself, would 
often live in misery, and die in despair. 

But although the most superficial attention to human 
life at every stage, from infancy to old age; to human so- 
ciety in every condition, savage or civilized; and to civile 
zation, under all its aspects, past, present, and prospective; 
must convince every reflecting mind; that man is not per- 
fectible: Yet surely, it does not require profound attention 
to his nature, condition and history, to perceive; that a ca- 
pacity for progressive improvement, is his distinguishing 
characteristic, and that to the development of this capacity, 
he is indebted for dignity and dominion, in the world he 
inhabits. 

Nor does it require, surely, extraordinary information 
or sagacity, to discover; that his progress towards improve- 
ment, although locally and for a season arrested, diverted 
and often reversed; has been, (as it respects the pozver of 
the human mind, and the march of civilization,) undevia- 
ting, steady, and even accelerated: that the aspect of civi- 
lized society, is at this time more auspicious, the condition 
of the " social order" more improved, and the means of 
extending and accelerating this improvement incompara- 
bly greater, than at any former asra; and that to become 
consciously, zealously, and actively instrumental in extend- 
ing and accelerating this improvement; is the highest and 
holiest office, to which virtue and wisdom; philanthropy and 
patriotism; genius and generous ambition, can aspire. 

This improvement can be promoted in no way, more 
effectually; than by purifying, as perfectly as possible, of 



Of Moral Fiction. 163 

error and immorality, those literary productions; that in 
consequence of the amusement they afford, are most eagerly 
read; and on account of their levity and cheapness, ob- 
tain the most rapid and extensive circulation. 

It is principally, by multiplying the number, diversify- 
ing the forms, and extending the circulation of periodical 
and fugitive publications, (gazettes more especially, and 
amusive literary works,) that the press has given to modern 
literature so extensive an influence, on national morality and 
public opinion. More information on subjects that excite 
liberal curiosity, is communicated by a single gazette in a 
few hours; than could have gleaned from conversation, 
(previous to the invention of the art of printing,) in the 
course of many weeks, months, or, even years: communica- 
ted too, not to a few hundred persons, but to hundreds of 
thousands: preserved from the possibility of being over- 
looked or forgotten, and accompanied by peculiar facilities 
and tests, for detecting error and ascertaining truth; which 
are necessary adjuncts of this inestimable art. 

A popular poem , or, novel, (in a few weeks after it 
issues from the press,) is perused probably by a greater 
number of persons; than had access to the Iliad during the 
existence of the Grecian Oligarchies; or, to the iEneid, du- 
ring the long period that elapsed, from the subversion of 
the Roman aristocracy, to the fall of the mighty empire, 
that was erected on its ruins. 

The profound truths of science, and the more exquisite 
beauties of literature, (like massy ingots and gems of inesti- 
mable value,) are still accessible only: and are probably for 



164 On the Modern Abuse 

ever destined to enrich and embellish, a small number of 
opulent and accomplished minds: But those facts and de- 
tails that excite general interest; that species of literature, 
that is fitted to amuse and affect minds of ordinary capa- 
city and cultivation, the press has converted into a sort of 
intellectual currency; for which, the demand is universal, 
and of which the circulation is incessant. 

Error and immorality therefore, when conveyed in these 
ever-volant and all pervading vehicles; taint the very at- 
mosphere of public opinion, and poison the fountains of 
national morality. 

The debasement or adulteration of the circulating coin; 
would be a greater practical evil to society, than the trans- 
mutation of all the ingots buried in the hoards of avarice, 
into base metal: or the sudden conversion of all the dia- 
monds and rubies, inshrined in the palaces of the opu- 
lent; into foul charcoal or mephitic gas. Unfortunately, 
however, while the value of the ingot is secure from de- 
preciation, and the beauty of the diamond and the ruby 
is protected from the possibility of deterioration or decay; 
coin is constantly exposed to be adulterated, or, counter- 
feited. 

The moral power of knowledge on social happiness, (in 
opposition to light,* by whose properties its influence is 
so often symbolized, and with which, it is so often and so 
mischievously confounded, in young, sanguine and unthink- 

* The fanciful analogy, betwixt the irradiation of light and 
the diffusion of knowledge, which has passed from rhetorical 
declamations into the dialect of the vulgar, is unfounded and 



Of Moral Fiction, 165 

ing minds) is increased by expansion, and impaired by con- 
centration. The smallest quantity of useful knowledge, 
imparted to each of a million of minds, will have a far more 
beneficial influence on social happiness; than the most pro- 
found knowledge, concentrated in a few highly cultivated 
and enlightened intellects. 

The progress of science and civilization, and the moral 
improvement of society, although remotely dependant on 



fallacious, and in persons of sanguine tempers and lively imagi- 
nations, who speculate on the improvement of society, is proba- 
bly a fruitful source of disappointment and mistake. It may 
not perhaps be useless to notice some remarkable and import- 
ant differences in the operation of these great agents. 

Light diffuses itself with astonishing rapidity: Knowledge 
spreads very slowly. Light experiences no sensible resistance 
to the diffusion of its beams: The progress of knowledge, is im- 
peded by innumerable obstacles and counteractions. Light is re- 
flected with nearly equal clearness and lustre from the surface 
of every object within the reach of its rays: Knowledge is dis- 
tributed with the greatest imaginable inequality. Lastly, in 
reflecting light, external objects are passive: The acqui- 
sition of knowledge, on the contrary, is an operation essentially 
active, every faculty of the mind must be vigorously awakened 
and exerted, and this circumstance from the inveteracy of that 
indolence, which has been justly styled " the master-vice of 
man" constitutes one of the most formidable obstacles to its 
general and equal diffusion. 

The intelligent reader, who takes the trouble to generalize 
the idea on which this apparently verbal criticism is founded, 
will feel, (upon a fair trial of its temper, solidity and sharp- 
ness,) that he wields a weapon, whose stroke is death to 
metaphor; to all tropes founded in faint, or fanciful resemblance, 
-even when applied, for the purpose of poetical embellishment. 



1613 On the Modern Abuse 

each other, and in the succession of ages possibly identi- 
fied, have no immediate, nor apparently necessary, con- 
nexion. 

The progress of science and civilization, depends prin- 
cipally on the constant addition to the sum of known truths: 
The progress of society and moral improvement, on the 
number of minds who participate the knowledge of truths 
already discovered; and on the clearness with which this 
knowledge is communicated. 

The former, enlarges the intellectual empire of contem- 
plative philosophy, by exploring, and subjecting new pro- 
vinces of the knowable, to the dominion of reason, and com- 
prehending them within the precincts of the known: The 
latter, extends the moral empire of religion and morality, 
by imparting to a constantly increasing number of human 
beings, a knowledge of the truths most essential to their 
happiness, here and hereafter. 

Genius, philanthropy and generous ambition, are the 
principal agents for enlarging the former: Liberty, equal 
laws, good example, shining from conspicuous and elevated 
stations in society; the extensive establishment of scientific 
schools, in conjunction with accessible and well-selected 
libraries, are the most potent and efficient means, for en- 
larging the latter. 

The one revises, purifies, embellishes and enriches the 
" page of knowledge," by the constant detection and scru- 
pulous erasure, of latent and subtile errors: The other, 
," unrolls that" already " ample" but imperfect "page" to 
the minds of successive millions. 




Of Moral Fiction. 167 

The former, is measured by the perfection of an Ency- 
clopaedia, by the profoundness, variety, and number of the 
truths it contains: The other, by the practica lvalue of a 
political constitution, municipal code, and system of na- 
tional education. 

The perfection of a telescope or an orrery, of an air- 
pump or gasometer, of a galvanic pile, or an electric bat- 
tery; are grand monuments of the power, and shining evi- 
dences of the triumphant progress, of science: Local gazettes 
circulating a correct statement of important facts; pamphlets 
containing a luminous development and temperate discussion 
of political questions; a succession of valuable moral essays; 
dramas, " holding the mirror up to nature, showing virtue 
her own feature, scorn her own image;" popular novels, 
portraying life and manners with fidelity, and bringing the 
lessons of wisdom home, to the " business and bosoms" of 
the young and inexperienced; legislative bodies, listening 
with reverence to the warnings of hoary-headed wisdom; 
academies, thronged with youths, smitten with the love of 
moral and intellectual glory, and spurning intemperate 
pleasure and inglorious indolence; and above all, preachers 
expounding from independent pulpits, the doctrines of na- 
tural and revealed religion, and impressing through the 
medium of a solemn and sublime oratory, the principles of 
divine truth, on the minds of assembled and assenting mil- 
lions, are the most solid unequivocal and acceptable evi- 
dences, of the progress of moral improvement. 

The successful progress of science, presents the image 
of a grand and sublime Olympic game, in which all the 



268 On the Modern Abuse 

energies and accomplishments of the human mind, are emu- 
lously displayed; in which intellectual heroes and demigod* 
impelled by the " laudum immensa cupido," strive for supe- 
riority, and contend in " sight of mortal and immortal pow- 
ers," for the amaranthine wreath of fame. 

The progress of moral improvement, presents the image 
of an ample and fertile territory; on which millions of happy, 
industrious, and skilful cultivators are amicably tilling the 
earth, extirpating noxious weeds, and disseminating nutri- 
tious grain: whilst genial suns and fruitful showers, are 
cherishing the vernal luxuriance, that betokens the silent 
but ceaseless progress of vegetation, the approving smile 
of Heaven on the face of nature; and holds forth a blessed 
pledge, that " Our Father who is in Heaven," will supply 
" daily bread" in abundance, to his children upon earth. 

In reviewing the progress of science; the mortality of 
man is associated with the funereal pomp, and monumen- 
tal grandeur, of starry pointing pyramids, and magnificent 
mausoleums: whilst the chissel and the pencil, seem to mock 
death's regal terrors, and exhibit the forms of departed 
sages and heroes, in shapes that defy the scythe of time: 
whilst libraries record their achievements, and transmit the 
benefits of their example and discoveries, to all succeeding 
generations. 

The progress of society, associates the mortality of man 
with " the turf, under the rugged elm and yew trees' shade, 
heaving in many a mouldering heap, over the narrow cells, 
in which the rude forefathers of the hamlet, sleep," whilst 
we read their history, in the " plenty scattered o'er a smiling 



Of Moral Fiction. 169 

land, and in the grateful and glistening " eyes" of their pos- 
terity. 

It is consoling too, to observe, (as we descend from an- 
tiquity to more recent ages,) that the connexion grows closer 
and more obvious, and the points of contact more nume- 
rous; betwixt the progress of science, and the progress of 
moral and intellectual improvement. 

In ancient times, we behold bards invoking the inspira- 
tion of the heavenly muse, and " waking to ecstacy the 
living lyre;" Plato unfolding the idea of a perfect com- 
monwealth; heroes aspiring to emulate the achievements 
and eclipse the renown of demigods; and an emperor of 
the world indulging on his solitary throne, sublime medita- 
tions on the harmony and grandeur of the universe, at the 
very aeras, when the earth was covered with blacker than 
Egyptian darkness; when the altars of infernal superstition, 
were reeking with human blood; when oppression, with 
plague, pestilence, and famine in its train, were depopula- 
ting and desolating the earth at " noon-day:" when we are 
reminded of the dignity of human nature, only by contrast- 
ing its possible and prospective, and seemingly imaginary, 
with its actual condition. 

But when we descend to more modern ages, a more 
auspicious scene presents itself. Almost at the asras, when 
Columbus discovers the new world, and Franklin draws 
lightning from the clouds; we behold Penn establishing a 
flourishing colony, in one of the fairest parts of the new 
world, and soon after, our attention is arrested by the grand- 
est and most beautiful of all moral spectacles: a confedera- 



170 On the Modern Abuse 

tion of flourishing colonies, established in the new world ? 
uniting to form a great community, and resolving to assert 
an independent place and equal rank amongst the nations 
of the earth: we behold the armies of this community, or r 
more properly, this community in arms, successfully le6T by 
a patriot-chief through a perilous and protracted struggle, 
to national independence: we behold this patriot-chief, at 
the close of the struggle, instead of attempting, after the 
almost invariable manner of victorious chiefs, in former 
ages, and in other countries during the same age, to usurp 
the diadem: we behold him, without even appearingto 
harbour a wish inimical to the freedom of his fellow citi- 
zens, returning to domestic life, to share equally and in 
common with all, the blessings which all had fought and 
suffered, to obtain and secure: we behold this now indepen- 
dent people clothing their political sages with delegated 
power to organize, and unanimously invoking this now em- 
phatically patriot-chief, to administer, the first magistracy 
under, a constitution and code of laws, that promise to se- 
cure the blessings of liberty, property, and an enlightened 
pursuit of happiness to vicessimally multiplying millions 
of freemen, through a millenium, probably, of unparalleled 
iand progressive prosperity and glory. 

To return from this digression. Although the press has 
provided means, for enabling, a majority, possibly in a 
well-ordered society, for enabling every human being, to 
acquire, more or less promptitude and skill in reading; yet 
it has not brought the profound and voluminous depositaries 
of science, within the reach of all. In every condition of 



Of Moral Fiction. 171 

•society tnat now exists, or, to which we can rationally look 
forward; many, perhaps a majority of human beings, ought 
to acquiesce; and to be taught to acquiesce without repining, 
in a scanty and partial cultivation of intellect: In the admis- 
sion of many conclusions, of which they cannot fully com- 
prehend the evidence; and in the dexterous performance of 
many processes and operations, whose theory they are una- 
ble to analyze. 

No improvement in the structure of political institu- 
tions; no prospective melioration of the social order, (at this 
time, within the ken of conjecture,) can give, a majority of 
individuals, in any civilized society, access, to the profound 
investigations of science, or, to the refined beauties of lite- 
rature and art. 

But it is surely practicable, and if practicable, unspeak- 
ably important, that the knowledge of elementary truths 
which is generally circulated, should be consistent and 
-distinct; and that the taste for literature, (so far as it is dif- 
fused,) should be liberal and uncorrupted. It is therefore 
all-important, that those scientific productions, that embrace 
the widest circle of readers, and of which, the press, by 
reducing the price, has so widely extended the circulation; 
should be purified as perfectly as possible of prejudice and 
«rror: that the ephemeral vehicles of miscellaneous intelli- 
gence, should circulate a correct knowledge of instructive 
and well authenticated facts. It is especially desirable, that 
those amusive fictions that are read with so much avidity, 
and by representing the character, situation, and internal 
feelings of the powerful, opulent, and enlightened- classes 



172 On the Modern Abuse 

of society, decisively influence the manners and moral sen- 
timents of the reader, should be modelled with the closest 
attention to truth and nature: composed in a style accu- 
rate, elegant, and nervous, and illustrate in all the forms 
they assume, the cardinal truth: that the happiness of the 
individual, in every possible situation, principally depends 
on the faithful performance of personal and social duties, 
and on the self-approbation, public confidence and private 
attachment, which are thereby obtained and secured. 

Were this, the character and tendency of the scientific 
and literary productions that circulate most generally; a 
stream of knowledge would incessantly descend from the 
better educated and more enlightened, to the more nume- 
rous and uninformed classes of society: not less genial, than 
the light and heat that radiate from the central luminary of 
the solar system, to the peopled planets that revolve around 
it: than the vital current, that, gushing from the heart, im- 
parts sensibility and pleasurable sensation to the minutest 
vessels, or remotest fibres of the human frame. 

The circulation of such productions amongst the more 
numerous and apparently less fortunate classes of society, 
Would diffuse a spirit of resignation, contentment, and cheer- 
fulness. Persons in the humbler and less envied conditions 
of society, would learn, that political power, necessarily 
and rightfully devolves on individuals, elevated by talents, 
intelligence, and opulence, above the level of their fellows: 
that the exercise of political power, whether inherited or 
delegated, as a means of personal happiness, is in no de- 
gree enviable, when the anxious and awful responsibility it 



Of Moral Fiction. 173 

imposes, and its tendency to corrupt the heart; and by ne- 
cessary consequence, to produce self-dissatisfaction and re- 
morse, are duly considered: that if the opulent possess am- 
pler means of enjoyment, they are also liable, (in conse- 
quence of their peculiar temptations to "the sins that most 
easily beset" human nature, indolence and sensuality) to 
sink into a state of motiveless apathy and ennui, more pain- 
ful far, than the privations of indigence, and the hardships 
of the severest toil: so much more painful, that their victim 
ought (with a view to personal happiness,) gladly and grate- 
fully to exchange his condition with the poorest and most 
toil-worn peasant, who enjoys health and the means of com- 
fortable subsistence. 

Those who were undistinguished by capacity and cul- 
tivation of mind, would learn that superior intelligence and 
talents, only enabled their possessors to compare more 
distinctly, the narrow boundaries of our actual, with the 
unbounded range of attainable knowledge: Are often ac- 
companied by pride, arrogance, vanity and envy: excite 
and keep alive a morbid thirst for distinction and popular 
applause: sap and wither health, by excessive intellectual 
exertion: extinguish curiosity and interest in the ordinary 
affairs of life, incapacitate or indispose the votary of litera- 
ture, for performing with fidelity and satisfaction his most 
important personal and social duties; and render him a 
stranger and an alien, rather than an inhabitant and inmate, 
of the world in which he lives. 

A conviction would thus be brought home too, to the 
mind of every reflecting reader, that, where on the other 
hand, the powerful, the opulent and the enlightened, enjoy 



1 74 On the Modern Abuse 

the real happiness to which they have access, (by a wise 
and beneficent use of their power, wealth and talents,) good 
Hows through a thousand channels to all classes of society, 
and is amply and equitably participated by every indivi- 
dual, however obscure or indigent. 

Thus would genius "vindicate the ways of God to man," 
by proving that in all stages of civilization and conditions 
of society; there exists an imperturbable equilibrium, an 
equitable distribution of good and evil: That " self-love 
and social" are in their primary elements and ultimate 
tendencies, " the same:" that the individual who imagines 
that society was made for him, and not he for society, 
commits an error more monstrous than Ptolemy, who ima- 
gined that the " sun- paved" firmament, revolved around 
u the dim spot, which men call earth:" That the man who 
attempts to make himself happy by inflicting misery on 
millions, exhibits a folly more egregious than the urchin 
in iEsop's fable, who slaughtered the goose that produced 
eggs of gold: or than a cultivator of the soil, who should 
imagine, that his wealth would be augmented and his hap- 
piness promoted, by confining the genial influence of show- 
ers and sun-shine> to the little spot of earth, in which he 
claimed exclusive property. 

These reflections naturally lead the writer to expose a 
third pernicious tendency of popular novels: their tendency 
to transform abused power, opulence and talents, into male* 
factors, and ignorance, indigence and insignificance, into 
victims: to hold up the former, as just objects of implacable 
abhorrence, and exhibit the latter, as the natural and pro* 



Of Moral Fietion. 1*75 

per objects of kindness, commiseration, active beneficence 
and tender pity. 

As if ignorance and error were noxious and innoxious, 
according to the condition in which their victims are pla- 
ced; the texture of their clothes, or the quality of their ali- 
ment: As if, at any equidistant point, from the " golden me- 
diocrity," from the centre of intellectual repose; although 
the form and aspect of misery may be different, the degree 
must not be the same: As if the wretchedness caused by 
superfluity, the diseases it engenders, and the remorse it 
entails, were not as deplorable; or even more deplorable, 
than the more palpable, because more squalid misery, 
maladies and shame, that grind the faces and haunt the 
steps, of poverty: As if the pangs of repletion, were 
less tolerable, than those of hunger; or gout or stone less 
agonizing, than scrofula or typhus: As if misery glittering 
in diamonds, were not as miserable, as misery shivering in 
rags: As if identity in substance were incompatible with, 
variety, in form and colour: As if Satan, " dilated to the di- 
mensions of Teneriffe and Atlas," ceased to be Satan, when 
he shrunk into a toad: As if the " variety of wretchedness" 
Were not ex-abundanti evidence of the " original sin," the 
essential malignity, of error. 

In many of the most popular modern novels, the distress 
and depravity portrayed are alike unreal and unnatural. 
The powerful and opulent are described as rightless usur- 
pers, insatiable monopolists, inhuman and malignant ty- 
rants. All the evils that spring from the misconstruction, 
or, maladministration of government-, from factitious and 



176 On the Modern Abuse 

feudal inequalities of condition; from bad or inefficient edu- 
cation, are ascribed to the deliberate, wanton and gratui- 
tous depravity of the very individuals, who are always 
their Jirst, and often their selected victims: who for every 
pang which they inflict on others, are repaid with usurious 
interest, by the pleasures which they sacrifice, or the pains 
which they inevitably suffer. 

The acknowledged and fundamental facts, that the 
situation in which human beings are born, and the impres- 
sions which external objects make upon their minds, depend 
upon causes, which they can neither foresee nor control; 
the creative power of habit, in the formation of character; 
the necessary connexion that subsists, between opinions, 
habits, motives and modes of action, are all forgotten, in the 
delirium of speculative philanthropy and false philosophyi 
A bastard philanthropy, that has its root in literary vanity, 
in baffled competition, in mortified pride, in malignant envy: 
or at best originates in gross and pestilent delusion: a de- 
claiming, canting, vile philosophy; that has made the very 
word odious to the eyes, and to the ears, and to the very 
souls, of men of native humanity and^/am sense. 

It is in consequence too, of this violation of truth and 
nature, that exaggerated descriptions of the privations and 
hardships of the labouring classes of society, are perused, 
not only without sympathy for the imaginary sufferer; but 
with mingled disgust, scorn, and indignation, towards their 
infatuated and visionary authors. 

The pathos of such descriptions is wholly/ac^'ows; the 
offspring of moody imagination, and false philosophy. 



Of Moral Fiction. 177 

Such descriptions are radically vicious. No purity of mo- 
tive, no splendour of genius, no innocence of intention, can 
expiate the pernicious effects, produced by their circulation. 
The authors of such works, embitter the real and inevi- 
table ills of life, by vivid contrast with a fancied felicity 
which can never be realized: divest the actual enjoyments 
and comforts within the reach of the mass of mankind, and 
(alone within their reach}) by a constant, disheartening, ir- 
ritating and tantalizing contrast, with pleasures, which 
they can neither approach nor attain: paralize the right- 
hand, and shiver into atoms the very aegis of virtue, forti- 
tude, by exciting, nourishing, and inflaming, a spirit of im- 
pious murmuring and rebellious discontent: teach, the ne- 
cessarily ignorant and comparatively indigent multitude, to 
regard the necessarily small minority of their fellow crea- 
tures, who can occupy exalted stationSj or, can be quali- 
fied to exercise political power, or, to acquire super^abun^ 
dant wealth, or, liberal accomplishments, not as their 
rightful rulers, natural protectors and benefactors: but as 
rightless usurpers, legalized robbers, insatiable and unfeel- 
ing monopolists: Confound the common sense of mankind, 
on a subject of all others, the most momentous, (the produc- 
tive causes, and appropriate correctives and remedies, of 
the disorders and vices of society:) and impel a devoted and 
infuriated multitude, to attempt the cure of irremediable 
evils, by means, that permanently aggravate the evils they 
endure, and not only abridge and adulterate, but possibly 
remove for ages, perhaps for ever beyond their reach, the 
good; which they might otherwise attain and perpetuate. 



178 On the Modern A bust 

This spurious pathos; whether it makes its appeal to 
the human heart, through the medium of elaborate disqui- 
sition, or, eloquent declamation; an amusive novel, or, an 
affecting drama; sonorous periods, or " magic numbers," is 
alike revolting to enlightened reason and genuine philan- 
thropy; and alike adverse, to the practice, of political, do- 
mestic, or, personal morality. 

It ascribes to the ignorant and indigent, wants of which 
they are unconscious; sensibilities they never feel, and de- 
sires which they never cherish. 

A vast majority of the human beings, who earn a sub- 
sistence for themselves and their families, by the labour of 
their hands, and the " sweat of their brows;" feel, and ought 
to feel, neither discontent, nor disconsolation, when they re- 
collect, or even whilst they survey, the luxury and idleness 
of the opulent. They feel, and ought to feel, reverence 
and awe, but experience no mortifying sense of intellectual 
inferiority, in the presence of sages; and rarely indulge a 
vain anxiety, to comprehend the recondite disquisitions of 
science, or, to relish the refined beauties of literature and 
art. The unlettered million, ply their diurnal toils, undaz- 
zled by the glare; and repose in the vale of obscurity, un- 
disturbed by the dreams of ambition. 

"Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 
" Their sober -wishes never learn to stray: 
" Along the cool, sequester'd vale of life, 
'* They keep the noiseless tenor of their way." 

The " mute, inglorious Milton," whose body moulders 
in the country church-yard; partook during life, " the 
homely joys and obscure destiny," of the " rude forefathers 



Of Moral Fiction. 179 

of the hamlet;" unconscious of his latent superiority, and 
insensible to the attractions of poetical renown. The 
" breast, once pregnant with celestial fire," whilst living; 
glowed only with the conjugal and parental affections, that 
hallow the blazing hearth; while the wife reclines on the 
bosom of her husband, and the lisping infant " climbs the 
father's knee." The hand, that might have " swayed the 
sceptre of empire, or waked to ecstasy the living lyre," was 
employed to fell the trees of the forest, or ply the autumnal 
sickle; with an eagerness as emulous, and a heart as jocund; 
as if it had been incapable of any more admirable, or, ele- 
vated office. 

Pathetic pictures (and many of the most popular novels, 
abound with such pictures,) of honest indigence, tormented 
with envy or pining with despair, at the spectacle of su- 
perfluity; of vulgar ignorance, languishing to quench its 
thirst at the Heliconian fount; of humble industry, longing 
to " ascend the steep, where fame's proud temple shines 
afar;" exist only in the day-dreams, of an undisciplined and 
irregular imagination. 

If such misery really exists; it is a consequence, not of 
the inherent imperfection, but of the incidental weakness 
and corruption, of human nature. It is not inflicted by the dis- 
pensations of a beneficent Providence; or, by the laws of 
moral nature; but by a spirit of discontent, that murmurs at 
these dispensations, and violates these laws. It ought to be 
viewed, not as a misfortune to be deplored; but as an error 
to be corrected, as a disease to be cured: not as one of the 
" ills that flesh- is heir to," (ills, with which, in this proba- 



180 On the Modern Abuse 

tionary pilgrimage, innocence and virtue are doomed to 
struggle,) but as the natural consequence and just punish- 
ment, of delusion and vice. 

Meanwhile, it is the baleful effect of such " miscreated 
fictions," to make the food they feed on; to realize in weak 
and uninformed minds, the very misery, (and there is none 
more exquisite,) which they affect to deplore. 

The poor wretch who " steals his neighbour^ purse^ 
steals trash:" yet if detected, his body is gibbetted or 
incarcerated, and his name and memory are stigmatised by 
infamy, so long as they endure; and it is just that it should 
be so: Whilst the ingenious and lettered wretch, who writes 
and circulates an immoral fiction, the perusal of which 
destroys his poor neighbour's contentment and peace of 
mind; and perhaps impells him to perpetrate the felonious 
act, that robs him of liberty and life, not only escapes pu- 
nishment, but is praised, admired and cherished; perhaps 
assists to enact and execute the law, that strangles or incar- 
cerates the malefactor! Such is the world we live in: Let 
us hope that it will grow better, as it grows wiser: With- 
out this precious hope, life were worthless. 

In the eye of enlightened morality, the wretch who 
vitiates the living man, is surely more noxious; than the poor 
wretch who steals the trash that nourishes worthless life. 

Novelists! Remember this! 

What! do the real evils of life occur so rarely, or touch 
the heart so lightly, that genius must be tasked to invent! 
poetry and eloquence, perverted and prostituted to portray! 
and the finest sensibilities of the soul evaporated in sighs. 



Of Moral Fiction, 1 8 1 

©r dissolved in tears! over the recital or representation of 
imaginary woes? 

How wide is the range! how incessant are the inroads! 
How countless the victims! how sore, how intolerable are 
the visitations of real misery? 

At every stage of human existence, from the cradle of 
infancy, to the couch of decrepitude; in every condition 
between the throne and the cottage; from the triumphal 
car, to the bed of impotence and pain; at every aera 
in the history of mankind, from the most ferocious bar- 
barism, to the most expanded civilization; how innu- 
merable are the degrees! how indefinable the varieties! 
how full to the brim, and bitter to the dregs, is the cup, of 
living wretchedness! how unexpected! how terrible! how 
cureless! how inevitable! how various, are the ills! that 
" flesh is heir to." 

When we turn our attention for a moment to the extent 
and variety of real misery; we involuntarily apostrophise, 
these moon-struck mourners, in the language of Akenside. 

tyrant power 
Here sits enthron'd in blood; the baneful charms 
Of Superstition there infect the skies, 
And turn the sun to horror. Gracious Heaven! 
What is the life of man? Or cannot these, 
Nor these portents thy ivish suffice? 

A fourth and most pernicious effect of popular novels, 
is, their tendency to mislead young and inexperienced per- 
sons of both sexes, in estimating personal merits, and at- 
tractions: in estimating the moral value of the qualities that 
are most essential to the purity and permanence of domestic 
happiness; and to the faithful performance of the momentous 



182 On the Medtrn Abute 

duties, that devolve on every man and woman, who unite 
their hearts, their fortunes and their being, by the nuptial tie. 

What connexion, on this side the grave, can be com- 
pared, in magnitude and interest with that, which marriage 
creates! A connexion, when formed, formed probably for 
life; a connexion, on which the happiness, the usefulness, 
the dignity, and even the duration of life itself, depend; 
a connexion to which the existence, and the probable 
happiness and misery of the human beings who are to 
succeed us, are indissolubly linked; a connexion, that must 
exert an overruling influence over every moment, every 
sensation, every feeling, of our future lives! and extend its 
influence, over the destiny of our children and our children's 
children! 

How unspeakably pernicious, must be the influence of 
whatever tends, in a marked manner, to misguide our judg- 
ment or our feelings; in estimating the qualities that deter- 
mine, the probable happiness or misery, of so momentous a 
connexion! 

That many, even a great majority, of the most popular 
and widely circulated novels; have this tendency, and pro- 
duce this effect, is indisputable. The writer might go far- 
ther, and safely state his conviction, that to this, more than 
to any other cause of similar tendency; may be ascribed 
many of the injudicious and consequently unhappy mar- 
riages, that take place. 

Ask any intelligent and sober-minded person of mature 
years, who has formed; — ask any well-disposed and tolera- 
bly well-educated young person of either sex, who looks 
forward to the formation, of this momentous connexion, to 



Of Moral Fiction. 183 

name the qualities, most essential to conjugal happiness? 
They will need no new experience; no pause for reflection: 
It will require no laboured reasoning to convince them, that 
conjugal happiness, (where there exists no extraordinary 
disparity in the age, condition or manners of the parties,) 
will depend principally, on health, good temper, good 
sense, intelligence, cheerfulness and kind-heartedness. 

With these essential qualities, if either, or both parties, 
chance to possess an elevated station in society, beauty, 
genius, taste, an extraordinary share of any ornamental 
accomplishment; a more splendid and envied, but assuredly 
a less solid structure of happiness, may be erected. These 
essential qualities not only constitute the firmest foundation; 
but supply the most precious and durable materials for the 
enjoyment, of that portion of conjugal felicity, that falls to 
the lot of the happiest of mortals. 

Surely no position can be more tenable; than, that any 
estimate of the probabilities for conjugal happiness, that as- 
signs a higher place to the latter qualities, than to the for- 
mer, or allows them to weigh more in the mind; is an error 
portentous and perilous! still more, that any estimate, which 
regards the latter as essential, and the former as unessen- 
tial, to conjugal happiness; increases almost to certainty, 
the probability of exquisite, hopeless, and to persons of 
keen and morbid sensibility, (and such persons are most 
likely to commit this fatal error,) intolerable wretchedness. 
Now, I might almost venture to challenge any omnivo- 
rous reader of novels, to name a single popular production 
of this sort, (previous to the appearance of Miss Edge- 



184 On the Modem Abuse 

worth's writings,) the perusal of which, had not a strong 
tendency, to lead the inexperienced mind into this fatal 
error. 

Novel-writers, usually shower upon their heroes and he- 
roines, (and it costs only the most ordinary effort of an ir- 
regular and heated imagination, to do so,) blooming youth 
and health, dazzling beauty, splendid talents, brilliant ac- 
complishments, elevated rank, superabundant opulence, 
and fascinating manners. The attribution of these rare and 
captivating qualities, they seem to regard, as an ample 
apology, not for deficiency merely, but often for the total 
exclusion, of the useful and inostentatious qualities; that 
are proverbially most essential to personal happiness, use- 
fulness, and respectability, in all the relations of human 
life, and in every condition of human society: Those prac- 
tical and saving virtues, without which every advantage 
that nature and education can bestow; every boon that for- 
tune, " in her maddest mood," can lavish; are necessarily 
converted into a source of misery to their possessor, and of 
mischief to society: without which, genius, and beauty, and 
wit, and eloquence, and address; resemble the gorgeous 
curtains of a bed of disease and death; a coffin inlaid with 
gold, and studded with diamonds; a vast sepulchre, irradia- 
ted by golden lamps, and perfumed with all the odours of 
" Araby the blest." 

It is an objection often urged to novels, that they are 
almost exclusively filled, with descriptions and details, of 
the hopes and fears, the anxieties and transports; the ad- 
ventures and vicissitudes, of youthful love. 



Of Moral Fiction. 185 

The objection is probably unfounded: a sentiment so 
natural, so powerful, so universal; that renews its empire 
over the hearts of each succeeding generation, and at that 
period of life too, when every individual is most suscepti- 
ble of exquisite feeling: a sentiment, which civilization has 
a necessary tendency to purify, to embellish and to exalt: 
a sentiment, whose exaltation and refinement, is the bright- 
est trophy, the fairest triumph of genuine civilization: a 
sentiment, on which so much of our happiness, or, misery, 
in the flower of youth, in the maturity and decline of life, and 
at the solemn and inevitable hour of death, depends: a sen- 
timent, that calls into existence, and determines the destinies, 
of our children and our children's children; can scarcely oc- 
cupy too conspicuous a station, or, too ample a space, in lite- 
rary works, devoted to the delineation of life and manners. 

The true objection, probably, is not to the predomi- 
nance of love in popular novels, but to the kind of love; the 
manner in which it is described, and the qualities by which 
it is excited. 

The opinion may seem strange, yet it is perhaps not 
less strange, than true, that this all-powerful sentiment, as 
it is awakened, nurtured, and matured in amiable hearts 
and highly cultivated minds; has never yet been portrayed 
in the " colours dipt in heaven," and in the heavenly light, 
in which it descends from heaven, to ravish, to purify, and 
to bless the hearts of sinful mortals. 

" They best can paint it, who have felt it most." 
A a 



186 On the Modem Abuse 

Those who feel this divine sentiment most tenderly and 
truly, are content to feel it; to enjoy in silent transport, and 
to whisper to each others' souls, its pure, and, but to each 
other, incommunicable joys. 

There is a sacredness in its feelings that shrinks from 
scrutiny, and courts concealment; that dreads disclosure, 
and loaths declamation. 

Those who truly love, are, so far as that sentiment is 
concerned, the whole world to each other, and in that, (to 
all but themselves,) non-existent world, they behold the 
image of paradise reflected: In performing with fidelity the 
duties it devolves; in participating its pure and hallowed 
delights, they experience a distinct presage of the joys of 
Heaven. 

All exquisite emotion, whether pleasurable or painful, 
palsies the tongue and seals the lips. The happy hearts 
that love each other, are conscious, how impotent, how un- 
hallowed! every attempt to embody their sentiments in 
words, would be. 

A sigh scarcely audible to any ear but one; a " dewy 01 
a downcast eye;" a blush, "celestial rosy-red, love's proper 
hue;" a smile that interchanges the finest and inmost feel- 
ings of sympathetic souls; a pulse, with which another pulse 
beats, in mysterious unison; the slow and silent swell of 
enamoured hearts; looks, by which congenial and confiding 
minds are mutually revealed and reunited, are the only vehi- 
cles sufficiently exquisite and evanescent, to convey these 
ineffable sentiments! 



Of Moral Fiction. 187 

Except to each other, these sentiments are manifested 
only, by habitual kind heartedness; by delicate and spon- 
taneous sympathy; by active beneficence; by self-denying 
charity, by the faithful performance of every personal and 
social duty: except to each other, these manifestations, are 
the most precious tokens of the existence of love; the odo- 
riferous oil that nourishes the genial flame; the fine affinities 
that more completely blend, identify, and beatify their being. 

" Behold the picture, is it like? Like what!" A flame 
kindled by the first accidental, lascivious glance, at a 
sightly face and form: whose infatuated votary, (victim 
rather!) finds fuel, for his "fires," in the ignorance, the 
errors, the vices, and follies, of his idol; and embellishes 
his idol with the " imputed charms," that are the offspring 
solely of an imagination; inebriated even to delirium, by 
selfish and impure desire! 

The love, that rekindles a spark, and reflects a faint 
image of primeval happiness in the hearts of sinful mortals; 
the love, that imparts a new life and a second self to its 
votaries; that beats during life in undivided hearts; the 
love that absence cannot alienate, nor jealousy disturb, nor 
old age wither, nor misfortune tarnish; the love, that burns 
through life with unsullied brightness, and converts every 
vicissitude of fortune and every temptation to inconstancy, 
into fuel for its holy flame; the love, that blunts the agonies 
and gilds the gloom of death; the love, that leans at that sad 
moment on the fond breast of its second self, and fixes its 
" last lingering look," on a lovely offspring, hanging around 
the neck, clinging to the bosom, clasping the knee of the 



188 On the Modern Abuse 

surviving parent; the love, that vanishes from earth, in the 
last look; escapes to heaven, in the heart's expiring pang; 
the love, that stamps its u bland and beautiful expression" 
on the lifeless features, as if it mocked death's regal ter- 
rors, and defied his dart: the love, that when the last trump 
shall sound, will revive among the first ineffable sensations 
of conscious immortality! This death-defying, life-delight- 
ing and immortal love, a legion of demons, in the shape of 
novel-mongers, seem to have combined to banish from the 
world. 

It would seem to be the object of these incarnate imps 
of perdition; to convert this pure, holy and unquenchable 
flame, into a fever of the blood, excited by external charms: 
By charms, possessed in an extraordinary degree, only by 
one individual in a thousand; that have no necessary con- 
nexion, with the qualities essential to conjugal happiness, 
and with which, in fact, these qualities are rarely united: 
charms, that necessarily disappear, with the swiftly fading 
flower of youth and beauty; and even during the season of 
youth, are held by the precarious tenure of health: Charms, 
that induce their possessor to undervalue the qualities, on 
which the moral and unfading beauty of character depend: 
Charms, proverbially liable to cloy by fruition; and (unless 
associated with more valuable qualities,) to be converted 
by fruition, into satiety and disgust. 

How superficial, yet how imposing.' how immoral, yet 
how seductive! are such misrepresentations of life and 
manners. 

An attachment, in its essence the offspring of disinter- 
ested esteem and moral preference; is transformed into a 



Of Moral Fiction. 180 

passion essentially sensual and exclusively selfish: an at- 
tachment that derives its aliment and its very existence, 
from benevolent affection and the tenderest sympathy; is 
transformed into the pander of despicable vanity and de- 
testable pride: an attachment, that emanates from mutual 
confidence, as from a fountain, and reposes in confiding 
faith, as on a sainted shrine; and in whose train, hope and 
peace and domestic bliss disport, is transformed into a tor- 
menting passion, kept alive by suspense, by jealousy, by the 
dread of inconstancy and treachery: A passion, in whose 
train are often beheld, "grim-visaged, comfortless despair" 
and " sorrow's piercing dart," and "hard unkindness' alter- 
ed eye, that mocks the tear, it forced to flow," and " keen 
remorse, with blood defiled," and moody madness " laugh- 
ing wild" 

" Amid severest wo." 

An attachment, that ought to be lighted by fire from 
heaven, and hallowed by the blessing of God, is transform- 
ed into a passion; on whose altar a lascivious Venus lays 
the impure offering; a blind and senseless Cupid strikes, 
from cold and flinty hearts, the consuming spark, at which 
a venal Hymen lights the funeral pyre; whose sudden, and 
transient blaze, shedding no genial light, diffusing no 
balmy odour, leaves not a " rack behind," or leaves only 
smoke and ashes: — 

" Nor even in the ashes, live their wonted fires." 

Were an intelligent inhabitant of another world, to form 
his opinion of love and marriage in ours, from the perusal 
of popular novels; he would be betrayed into very ludi- 



190 On the Modern Abuse 

crous misconceptions. He would be led to believe, that 
every individual of either sex, who did not possess ex- 
quisite beauty and enchanting grace, fascinating address 
and brilliant wit, an elevated station and ample fortune; 
were incapable or unworthy of love, and predestined to 
celibacy. 

He would of course infer, that all civilized countries, 
abounded with nunneries and monasteries; and that in the 
former, all females, who were not beautiful and graceful 
and witty; and in the latter, all males, who were not killingly 
handsome, and opulent, and nobly descended; were incar- 
cerated for life, in solitary cells. 

These delirious fictions, which would surprise us little, 
were they conceived in the brain of a Turk, intoxicated by 
opium, and dreaming of the unholy Houries of Mahomet's 
paradise; cannot fail to astonish and shock every reflecting 
mind, when regarded as the productions, (and the popular 
and admired productions) of persons of genius, intelligence 
and taste, in the most civilized communities of Christendom. 

The radical defects of female education; the absurd pre- 
ference of accomplishments merely ornamental, to such as 
are intrinsically useful, and far more truly ornamental: The 
preference of accomplishments that dazzle for an hour; to 
such as contribute to the happiness of conjugal and domes- 
tic life, and during life: The preference of accomplishments, 
that enable a young and beautiful woman, to gratify her 
own vanity, and to excite, by their occasional display, the 
envy of her own sex, and the admiration of voluptuaries 
and idlers; to the qualities and acquirements, that keep 



Of Moral Fiction. 191 

alive in her own breast, the calm, but delightful feeling of 
self- approbation; secure the friendship of the more amiable 
part of her own sex, and more than friendship, from the 
more estimable part of ours: The qualities and acquire- 
ments, that enable a woman, whether young or old, beauti- 
ful or not beautiful; to perform in every stage of life, and 
in every social relation; the duties of daughter, sister, friend, 
wife, and above all, of mother and grand-mother: This 
preposterous and most pernicious preference; is in no in- 
considerable degree, to be ascribed, to the character of 
popular and widely circulated novels. 

It seems rarely to occur to novel-writers, that courtship, 
and love, and the nuptial tie, are preliminaries merely, to a 
connexion, usually indissoluble, except by death; and that 
the happiness or misery of lovers, during the prime and in 
the decline of life, and the happiness or misery of their off- 
spring; essentially depend upon the eligibility, or, ineligi- 
bility of this connexion. 

Indeed, a great majority of these writers, seem tacitly 
to acknowledge, that courtship and love, as they conceive 
and describe these incidents; are seldom viewed in refer- 
ence to connubial and domestic happiness: at the moment 
when, or, at farthest a few hours, after the nuptial knot is 
tied, the novel usually closes; and the reader is left to ima- 
gine, what superlative and unalloyed felicity, fortune has 
in store; for such fond, constant, beautiful, all-accomplished, 
transported, and transporting lovers. 

It must be admitted too, that this abrupt close of the 
narrative, although at the time when it becomes, or, ought 



192 On the Modern Abuse 

to become, most interesting and instructive; is, (as it re- 
gards the reputation and skill of the writer, in the con- 
struction of moral fiction,) very prudent and judicious. 

For did the writers proceed to develop and detail, 
(with any tolerable regard to probability,) the conse- 
quences of such love and courtship, as are usually ima- 
gined in novels; they could scarcely fail to blush, at the 
inevitable detection, because at the inevitable development, 
of the errors they had committed; and if they had good in- 
tentions, even to recoil with keen remorse, from the vivid 
anticipation of the pernicious effects, which such partial and 
immoral representations of life and manners; are calculated 
to produce on young and inexperienced minds. 

Were a good angel commissioned or permitted to pre- 
sent to the view of mankind, a distinct and practical de- 
velopment of the evils, which, for half a century back, have 
been produced, and are now produced, (more extensively 
than at any former period,) by the circulation of pestilent 
novels; the conflagration of the Alexandrian Library was 
but a bonfire, in comparison with the stupendous pyre of 
novels and romances, which would be kindled by the in- 
dignation of parents and patriots, in every part of the civi- 
lized world. I seem to behold the pens dropping from the pal- 
sied hands of a host of horror-struck novel-mongers! who 
are at this moment assiduously and emulously employed, in 
the composition of these pestiferous fictions! And a second 
conflagration of unfinished manuscripts, " voluminous and 
vast," burst forth with a lurid and fuliginous; but to the 
eye of reason, most welcome and auspicious blaze! 



Of Moral Fiction. 193 

It may be useful to run a parallel, in a few cardinal 
points, between the facts of real life, and the fictions of 
novel-writers, in regard to connubial and domestic happi- 
ness. 

In most instances of happy marriages in real life, the 
parties possess only an ordinary share of personal beauty 
and grace: In novels, they usually possess an extraor- 
dinary share of both. 

In real life, they gradually acquire, by the steady exer- 
cise of industry, frugality, and probity, a moderate portion 
of the goods of fortune: In novels, they inherit, unexpectedly, 
or, acquire, suddenly an affluence, that falls in real life, to 
the lot of one, in ten, or, twenty thousand persons. 

In real life, such persons are usually remarkable for 
prudence, sobriety of temper, exemplary integrity and 
punctuality, in their social intercourse, conduct, and trans- 
actions: In novels, one or both parties, are imprudent, 
rash, romantic, intemperate in their feelings and passions; 
irregular, often culpable, sometimes dishonourable, and 
even criminal, and manifest great contempt for the opinions, 
of the prudent, cautious, and sober. 

In real life, the happy and respectable husband, looks 
forward to the acquisition of wealth, and usually provides 
the means of comfortable and independent subsistence for 
his family; by the steady and skilful exercise of some spe- 
cies of useful and liberal talents, or, accomplishment, and 
his conjugal and domestic happiness, his respectability and 
distinction in society, essentially depend, upon the stea- 
diness and energy of his exertions in the pursuit; to whick 

b b 



194 On the Modern Abuse 

he devotes the maturity of his life, and the activity of his 
mind and body. In novels, the husband, from the moment 
when the nuptial knot is tied, is almost invariably an opulent 
idler; exempted by situation, indisposed by indolence, or, 
disqualified by ignorance and incapacity, for the exercise 
of any sort of valuable, liberal, or, noble pursuit; and looks 
for distinction and respectability solely, to the privileges of 
factitious rank, and the profuse, ostentatious, and unproduc- 
tive disbursement of wealth. 

In real life, an extraordinary share of conjugal and do- 
mestic felicity, results from the capacity of the husband, or, 
of the wife, or, of both, (and from a disposition to exert 
those capacities steadily and zealously,) to co-operate in 
cultivating the minds, and forming the manners and charac- 
ters of their children; according to the best living models of 
moral excellence and liberal accomplishments: on the part 
of the wife, from superior skill, method, and neatness, in 
her domestic economy; the appropriation of a due portion of 
her leisure, to liberal literature, rational conversation, or, 
elegant art; from the exercise of a self-denying and active 
charity, and exemplary patience, equanimity, cheerfulness, 
and tenderness, in all the relations of life: on the part of 
the husband, from the exercise of public spirit, wisdom, elo- 
quence, courage, and patriotism, in legislative bodies, during 
peace; or, if his country should be at war, in the field. 

In novels, the character and accomplishments of the 
hero and heroine are rarely such, as to warrant a belief or 
even a conjecture; that they are, or, are ever likely to be- 
come, disposed or qualified, to derive any extraordinary 
share of conjugal or domestic happiness, from these sources. 



Of Moral Fiction. 195 

In real life, when we review the origin and progress of 
a courtship and love, that produce in mellow maturity the 
blessed fruits of domestic happiness; we discover a prefer- 
ence, moderate and unassured in its early stages, gradually 
ripening into sincere, heartfelt, and decided predilection: a 
predilection, the fidelity, tenderness, and disinterestedness 
of which; are often severely tried by absence, distance, 
sickness, unexpected vicissitudes of fortune, and the strong- 
est temptations to inconstancy: a predilection, established 
by a thorough knowledge of each other; an undisguised de- 
velopment of their dispositions, characters, and habits; an 
explicit and unreserved interchange of their opinions and 
sentiments, on the subjects most likely to affect their future 
happiness: a predilection, gradually and genially matured, 
by this knowledge, development, interchange, and ordeal, 
into fond, faithful, and constant love, and reposing on a 
conviction, inassailable by treachery or time; that they mu- 
tually possess the qualities, best adapted to make each other 
happy, during the remainder of their lives; because best 
adapted to qualify these really fortunate, and happy lovers; 
to fulfil the delicate, momentous, and inviolable duties, 
which marriage creates. 

From, this soul-refreshing retrospect; this sunny, flowery, 
and fruitful spot, (in the vast desert where so many way- 
ward pilgrims wander,) let the reader avert his delighted 
eye: let him expunge and reverse every feature, in the por- 
trait I have sketched, and he will behold, in all its deformity, 
the outline of a modern novel: 



196 On the Modern Abuse 

" Woman," it seems; " to the waist, and fair, 
" But ending foul in many a scaly fold, 
" Voluminous and vast, a serpent arm'd 
" With mortal sting." 

In novels, we are taught to expect supreme conjugal 
and domestic felicity, from love at first sight; a love that 
mounts in a moment to the highest state of rapture and ex- 
altation; that vows eternal constancy in half an hour, or, in 
a few hours, or, weeks, at farthest: a prodigious, ungoverna- 
ble, and overwhelming love, (the fever and phrenzy of a 
diseased imagination;) which being excited exclusively by 
carnal beauty and attraction, in sensibilities keenly suscep- 
tible of sudden and violent excitement, necessarily occa- 
sions a temporary ebriety and mental blindness; that not 
only hides every defect, and heightens every charm in the 
idol of desire, but superadds a thousand unreal attractions. 

This ebriety and blindness is well described by Sappho, 
in the celebrated lines; which seem to have philtered the 
souls, and stultified the common sense of novel-mongers. 

This mental ebriety and blindness, whilst it endures; 
absorbs or evaporates the sensibility, stupifies the under- 
standing, and confounds, or, fascinates the senses of the 
lover. This monstrous and morbid love, awakens a species 
of sympathy, resembling more, the feelings excited by the 
spectacle of disease or madness; than the moral harmony, 
to which the soul is attuned, by contemplating in real life, 
the union of innocent and enamoured hearts; of confiding, 
and congenial minds. 

Such love, when followed, (as it must be,) by disappoint- 
ment, or, by the inconstancy, caprice, or, guilt of its idol; 



Of Moral Fiction, 197 

necessarily concludes with suicide, madness, misanthropy, 
misogyny, or, by deplorable and impotent melancholy, du- 
ring the wretched remainder of its victim 1 s life. 

These tragical consequences the novel-monger never fails 
to describe, in a style the most pathetic and horrific which 
he can conjure up; and seems involuntarily, and almost in- 
stinctively, to imagine the most tragical catastrophe within 
the limits, or, on the very verge of possibility. 

The probable, or, rather the certain consequences of 
such love, when it terminates in the consummation, for 
which the idolizing lovers so ardently long and so devoutly 
pray; consequences, that often include a more bitter and 
blasting disappointment, the novel-monger very discreetly 
and cunningly, forbears to develop. He leaves the reader, 
who is sufficiently weak, credulous, and inexperienced, to 
harbour a belief, (in the face and teeth of experience;) that 
the intoxication of these enchanted and enchanting lovers, 
continues during life. 

It is mournful, it is humiliating, it is portentous! to re- 
flect, that, after having access to the results of the experi- 
ence of nearly six thousand years; there should be found 
in a civilized community, a single human creature of sound 
mind, and approaching the maturity of life, who can, even 
for a moment harbour, so stupid and noxious a delusion. 

But we are struck dumb with wonder, we grow " marble 
with amazement,"'' when we find such delusion, epidemical, 
and pestiferous, in communities, that boast of their intelli- 
gence and freedom, and in an age that glories in its light, 
and exults in its triumphs. 



I 



198 On the Modern Abuse 

Is man for ever doomed, to be appalled by unreal ter- 
rors and tantalized by visionary hopes? Is he for ever 
doomed, to pace round the circle of sophistry, and imagine 
that he is advancing? To float in the balloon of declamation, 
and dream that he is ascending; to gaze on the stagnant 
and polluted pool of prejudice, at once shallow and ob- 
scene, and gravely fancy and solemnly pronounce it, to be 
deep, because he cannot see to the bottom? 

Such cannot be the decrees of Heaven, or, the destiny 
of man. Error, and its creature evil, may live long, may 
reign widely, and revel widely; but they are in their essence, 
annihilable, and the moment of their annihilation must 
come, as surely as God exists. 

But whilst we bow with adoration, and submit with re- 
signation, to the mysterious dispensations of divine provi- 
dence; let us remember that God governs the universe by 
secondary causes, and that whilst we are commanded by 
his holy word to " love our Creator with all our heart, and 
with all our soul, and with all our mind;" and to " love 
our neighbour as ourselves;" we are commanded also to "do 
good," to "eschew evil;" to "hold fast to the truth of things," 
and to wage with error " war of extermination." 

Such is the war, which the writer in this essay endea- 
vours to v/age with the epidemical errors, that are inces- 
santly re-produced and multiplied, by the modern abuse 
of moral fiction. Happy to the full extent of his wishes 
and beyond his most sanguine hopes, could any effort of 
his, confederate the gallant and chivalrous champions of 
truth, array an enlightened public opinion, and unite the 



Of Moral Fiction. 199 

exertions of parents and patriots, of preachers and instruct- 
ors; of the press, the pulpit and the rostrum; against so for- 
midable a foe to national morality, and to social happiness. 
Happy! even if the perusal of this essay should protect 
one innocent and inexperienced mind, from the " foul en- 
chantments;" or dash from the eager lips, of one generous 
and ingenuous youth of either sex; the charmed cup of 
Comus or of Circe. 

To return from this digression: The fables about love 
in novels, are founded on a set of inadmissible assump- 
tions. Inadmissible! Religion is imposture! history is a 
liar! experience is solemn illusion! philosophy is somnam- 
bulism, if these assumptions are not radically false. 

It is not true, that love in the highest degree of delicacy, 
tenderness and refinement, in which it can " reign and re- 
vel" in the most susceptible heart, and graced and gifted 
mind; pre-supposes in the beloved being extraordinary 
personal beauty or grace, or surpassing skill in accomplish- 
ments, merely ornamental. 

It is not true, that persons of either sex who are most 
richly endowed with these charms, graces and accomplish- 
ments; are best qualified and most entitled to enjoy connu- 
bial and domestic felicity. 

It is not true, that the opposition of parents, guardians 
and rivals; sudden and unexpected vicissitudes of fortune; 
the exposure of the lover's idol to incredible perils, priva- 
tions and misery, in consequence of her love; are at all 
necessary to purify or exalt this passion, to try its constan- 
cy, tenderness or disinterestedness, or to give the parties a 
greater probability of happiness, in the married state. 



200 On the Modern Abuse 

On the contrary, the love thus excited, nourished and 
inflamed, is in real life, often succeeded by indifference, not 
unfrequently by alienation; and the marriages contracted 
under such circumstances, are almost proverbially the most 
unhappy. 

It is not true, that the privileges of factitious rank, and 
the possession of superabundant wealth, are the best means 
of securing personal, domestic, or connubial happiness: The 
reverse, in a great majority of instances, is nearer to the 
truth, and more conformable to experience. 

The inheritance of these privileges, by conferring dis- 
tinction and importance without a shade or semblance of 
personal merit, or moral excellence, often leads the pos- 
sessor to neglect the cultivation, and undervalue the sterling 
worth of such merit and excellence; becomes an apology, 
not only in his own estimation, but in the estimation of 
others; for the want of whatever is essential to give any 
human being a valid title, to the confidence, admiration, 
esteem or respect of the wise and good. Under arbitrary 
governments and half-civilized communities, the possession 
of these privileges, is often regarded as a sufficient substi- 
tute for talents and virtue; and even as an ample expiation, 
for the most flagitious profligacy, and contemptible folly. 

The possession of superabundant wealth by inheritance, 
or sudden acquisition; by removing, all the ordinary and 
efficacious incentives to industry and enterprise, conspires 
with the " master vice" of man, indolence, to produce a 
motiveless and listless apathy; a thought-sick, life-loathing 
melancholy, more intolerable! than the agonies of disease 



Of Moral Fiction. 201 

or famine. When the writer says more intolerable, he 
wishes to be understood as stating an undeniable fact. The 
perpetrators of the crime of crimes, suicide: The perpe- 
trators of the only crime, that precludes the possibility of 
repentance: The perpetrators of the crime that hurries the 
affrighted and despairing soul of the criminal, into the pre- 
sence of the Eternal God, at the very moment! when it ex- 
poses the self-murdered body " gored with gaping wounds," 
red and reeking with its own blood, to the horror-struck 
senses of surviving friends, and to the scorn and execra- 
tion of mankind: The perpetrators of this inexpiable and 
impious crime! almost invariably belong to the class of per- 
sons, who are in popular novels represented as the dar- 
lings of nature; the favourites of fortune; and the idols of the 
world. 

Spurn, youthful and ingenuous reader! as you value hap- 
piness, here or hereafter; as you respect the noble nature of 
man; as you would preserve a " conscience void of offence," 
spurn, I charge you! these monstrous misrepresentations of 
life and manners. Be not seduced into the fatal delusion, 
that you can be happy, without deserting happiness; or 
that you can deserve to be happy; without the steady and 
strenuous exertion of your faculties, mental as well as 
bodily. 

Mind without consciousness; matter without motion; 
light without lustre; heat without repulsion; man without in- 
tellect: or, woman without a soul, are not more inconceiva- 
ble, than the idea of happiness without exertion. 

tf c 



202 On the Modern Abuse 

When a young man, sees a venerable sage in the de- 
cline of life, (Franklin or Corea for instance,) and observes 
the esteem and even reverence which they excite wherever 
they appear; he secretly says to himself " what! would I 
not give, to be thus loved and honoured." Such love and 
honour, are, no doubt, desirable; they constitute the most 
cheering consolation of virtuous and venerable old-age, and 
an essential and most precious part of the reward of wis- 
dom and virtue, on this side the grave. But in the estima- 
tion of venerable old-age, this reward is comparatively 
worthless: Yet a little while! and alas, the hoary head is laid 
low, and all that is mortal in the most venerable old-age, 
is mingled with the dust. It is the retrospect of a well- 
spent life; it is the consciousness of a solid claim to immortal 
reverence and love; it is the presentiment that virtue and 
wisdom will survive in the memory and for the advantage 
of unborn millions; it is the anticipation of the benefits 
which posterity will derive, from so rare and precious an 
example: This! is the nectar of old-age, the " balm of 
Gilead and the blest physician" to its infirmities: This! is 
the charm, that makes virtuous and venerable age, more 
lovely in the estimation of the enlightened mind, than merely 
immortal youth, or merely unfading beauty: This! is the 
only immortal youth, the only unfading beauty, on this side 
the grave: This! and only this, ought to be enviable in the 
estimation of ingenuous youth, in contemplating the old-age 
of men like Franklin and Corea: But this is, and can be 
the reward only, of a life, steadily and strenuously spent, 
in the practice of piety and virtue. But methinks, I hear an 



Of Moral Fiction. 203 

ingenuous and noble minded youth, exclaim, "all this is 
true, but exertion is pain:" pain! read on, and I will reply to 
that, read on! 

" Whom God has joined, let no man put asunder." God 
has joined pleasure and pain in this part of the universe, and 
therefore probably throughout the universe, and they can 
be disjoined only, by the Fiat of Omnipotence. 

Is there a single pleasure, mental or carnal, sensible or 
intellectual; selfish or social: is there a solitary pleasure, 
within the reach of man, to which pain is not wedded as its 
counterpart, and with which, it is not connected, as its 
cause? 

The cravings of hunger, (which are pain,) precede, and 
cause, the pleasures of eating our " daily bread;" but for 
these cravings, the act of eating would be nauseous, or, 
loathsome. 

The still more importunate craving of thirst, precedes 
and causes, the exquisite pleasure of slaking it; and but 
for that craving, Tantalus himself would be as insensible 
to pleasure from swallowing the water, which alternately 
laves and eludes his burning lip, as, the vessel that con- 
tains it. 

Sleep, is sweet only, to weary and way-worn limbs: 
The pain of exertion, must smooth the bed and soften the 
pillow: Without that pain, the bed of down is converted 
into " burning marie;" and " the eider bolster and embroi- 
dered woof" are stuffed with thorns: The "troubled" only, 
" cease from trouble;" the " weary" only " are at rest," from 
their labours, in balmy slumber: And those who are thus 



204 On the Modern Abuse 

troubled and weary, rest, even in the " cradle of the rude 
imperious surge:" Rest! even " in smoky cribbs, upon un- 
easy pallets stretched, and hushed with buzzing night-flies 
to their slumber," whilst lazy voluptuaries and inglorious 
kings, " with all appliances and means to boot, even in the 
calmest and the stillest night" are restless and wretched. 

Doubt, suspense and rivalry, are proverbially the nutri- 
ment of love, in its progress from unassured predilection, to 
fond and confiding affection: The pain of uncertainty and 
solicitude is the ordeal, in which its constancy, is tried; the 
furnace in which it is sublimed and etherealized: hope and 
fear are the alternate shower and sun-shine, under which 
it ripens into mellow maturity, and is converted by the 
nuptial tie, into an union, indissoluble but by death; and 
which like that dissolution too, will be the precursor to 
an immortal and beatific union, " in another and a better 
world." 

" Dura necessitas, curis accuens, mortalia corda," laid 
the deep foundations of civilization and science, and the 
" amor patriae laudum-que immensa cupido;" which are but 
specious names, for pleasure-begetting pain, have furnished 
the materials for amplifying, enriching, elevating and embel- 
lishing, the glorious superstructure. 

It is by solving doubts; surmounting difficulties; and sa- 
tisfying painful and restless curiosity, that the study and 
acquisition of knowledge, afford gratification to the active 
and inquiring mind. 

It is from the spectacle of pain, that human benevolence 
derives incentives to exertion: it is from the exertions 



Of Moral Fiction. 205 

of benevolence thus stimulated, that beneficence derives its 
very being. 

What is virtue, but an incessant, a strenuous and vic- 
torious conflict, with difficulty; danger; self-denial and 
hardship? 

What is piety, but a cheerful acquiescence in the dis- 
pensations of divine providence; a magnanimous endurance 
of the inevitable ills of life, an heroic and triumphant strug- 
gle with the temptations, to which we are necessarily ex- 
posed, in this probationary pilgrimage? 

What is victory, but the reward of danger bravely en- 
countered; of hardship suffered with constancy? 

What is fame, (the fame " for which" all generous spirits, 
K bear to live," and for which, they are at all times ready 
" to die,") but the honours with which posterity hallow the 
memory and the names of their illustrious progenitors, who 
by courage in confronting danger; by patience in suffering; 
by perseverance in surmounting the difficulty; by a wisdom 
taught, and a virtue disciplined, in the school of adversity; 
have enlightened, and warned, and regenerated, mankind? 

What is Heaven, but the happiness prepared in another 
state of existence and in a better world; by our " Father 
who is in Heaven," for his dutiful children upon earth; who 
have "remembered their Creator in the days of their youth;" 
" have walked humbly before God;" " returned good for 
evil," and submitted with patience and resignation to the 
ills of life; in a world, where " man is born to affliction, as 
the sparks fly upward?" 



20G On the Modern Abuse 

What is Hell, the " worm that never dies;" the " fur- 
nace whose smoke ascendeth for ever;" the deep, in which 
" a lower deep, still threatening to devour, opens wide!" 
What, according to the most enlightened theologians, are 
these appalling images; but emblems, and faint emblems, of 
the remorse; with which the disembodied and immortal 
spirit, must look back on the misdeeds " done in the body?" 
On the voluntary and ignominious bondage, of the soul to 
the senses, of the faculties of the man to the appetites of 
the animal? On apostacy from truth because it was unpo- 
pular; on desertion of the banner of justice because danger 
and death menaced its defender; on escape from the perils 
of battle, for the sake of booty; on the evasion or violation 
of duty, because it exacted the sacrifice of present and 
carnal pleasure, or, inflicted immediate privation and pain; 
because it summoned the surrender of wealth, popularity or 
power; on the habitual preference of mind-consuming sloth, 
and self-tormenting indolence, to the steady and energetic 
exertion of a spirit, 

" Proud in the strong contention of its toils, 
" Proud to be daring." 

Are you answered, young reader? are you convinced, 
that there is no happiness for man, without exertion? No 
pleasure, that does not derive its purity, its zest, its very 
being, from pain. If you are not, you have my sincerest pity: 
The fault may be chargeable on temperament; education, 
and fortune; but you will be the selected victim. If you are not 
answered, an evil star presided at your birth: you are predes- 
tined to be one of the " profanum vulgus:" one of the " fru- 



Of Moral Fiction. 207 

gesconsumere nati:" you may inherit a dukedom, but you will 
never be, nor aspire to be, a Marlborough or a Wellington: 
you may " sway the rod of empire," but you will never 
" wake to ecstacy, the living lyre:" you may " shut the 
gates of mercy on mankind," but you will never assist in 
unrolling the " ample page of knowledge to their minds:" 
Tacitus or Gibbon may write your history; but it will never 
be read, in a " nation's eyes." If you are not convinced, 
young reader, your own experience will assuredly impress 
conviction; and although the warning will come too late for 
your benefit, it may be useful to the world. 

This is the only consolation that any human being can 
administer, to the youthful victim of so fatal a delusion; un- 
less we conceive that he is permitted to work a miracle, 
for his special salvation. 

It is to prevent the evidence of these salutary and saving 
truths, from impressing itself on immature and uncorrupted 
minds; that a host of novel-mongers, (from the limbo of 
vanity, from the Lilliput of " belittled" intellect,) seem to 
have confederated their efforts: confiding in the musty and 
misapplied proverb, ' ; that many littles, make a mickle," 



" The insect youth are on the wing, 
" Eager to taste the honied spring, 
" And float amid the liquid noon:'* 

" Hark! how through the peopled air 
Their busy murmur glows!" 

" To Contemplation's sober eye, 
Is such the race of man? 
Must they that creep, and they that fly 
But end, where they began?" 



208 On the Modern Abuse 

ft Must, the busy and the gay, 
But flutter through life's little day, 
In Fortune's varying colours drest! 
Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance, 
Or, chill'd by age, their airy dance 
Forsake in dust to rest?" 

Yes — emphatically, yes! — Whilst science and song, the 
science of Newton and the song of Milton; whilst history 
and biography, the " daily bread" and " living water" of 
intellect, stagnate in the cells of the monastic student; whilst 
the press teems, and circulating libraries swarm, with the 
foul and ephemeral fry, which are spawned with preterna- 
tural feracity, and gorged with emulous avidity, to satiate 
the mental Boulimous and Lientery of the omnivorous rea- 
der. Yes — emphatically, yes! — Such " must be the race 
of man," and woman, too; till an intelligent public, roused 
from its portentous trance, shall stay, this moral pestilence. 
These reptile fictions, in the guize of harmless amuse- 
ment, wind their way into the school-room; the play-ground; 
the parlour; the closet of privacy; the couch of repose, and 
even to the cradle of infancy. They infuse their " delicious" 
and unsuspected poison, into the father's admonition; the 
teacher's lesson; the " school-boy's satchel" and pastime; 
the nurse's tale, and even, (eloquar an sileam!) into the mo- 
ther's milk. 

The apple of Atalanta, the cup of Circe, the scissors of 
Dalilah; the tunic of Dejanira; are their appropriate em- 
blems. 

Beware, amiable and noble-minded youth, beware! How- 
ever deeply smitten with the passion of noble minds, the 
" laudum immensa cupido," a rage for novel-reading, will 



Of Moral Fiction. 209 

tilently but surely debauch your imagination and enervate 
your soul. 

Beware! Hercules in his cradle crushed the snakes, but 
Hercules in his prime, perished by the Tunic: Sampson 
with the jaw-bone of an ass, spread death and desolation 
through the Philistine host, but his locks were shorn by the 
scissors, his strength was withered in the arms of Dalilah: 
The confident and e/?e-victorious racer, turned aside to 
seize the apple of Atalanta, and was overtaken and out- 
stripped, by his less swift, but more cautious rival, in the 
race: Ulysses himself, must have been transformed into one 
of Circe's grunting and degraded victims; if he had not 
Spurned her brutifying beverage. 

Parents and children, sons and daughters, teachers and 
pupils! these wily and invisible imps, are for ever around 
you! about you! upon you: morning, noon, and night, they 
haunt your steps and creep into your bosoms: They have 
exchanged the vox tcetra for the syren song, and the horri- 
dus odor, for the fragrance of " cassia, nard, and balm:" but 
Sicilian harpies were not more direful, the frogs of Pharoah 
were not more pestilent. 

The ten plagues of Egypt were not more fatal to health 
and life, than this plague of fiction is, to the innocence and 
virtue of the rising generation. 

It would seem as if the author of evil, trembling at the 
power of the press, and foreseeing how fatally it would sap 
the foundation of his empire on earth, by dissipating igno^ 
ranee, and extirpating error; had embodied a legion of vas- 
sal-imps and stationed them, under the special command of 



C 210 On the Modern Abuse 

Belial and of Mammon, in every populous city. They are 
stationed there, for the purpose of tainting, (by constant ex- 
halations from the oblivious pools of stagnant and corrupted 
fancy,) the atmosphere of public opinion; blighting the ver- 
nal luxuriance of moral vegetation; hiding by a cloud of de- 
lusion the firmament of science, and refracting or intercept- 
ing the sun-shine of truth, from the eyes of the rising gene- 
ration. 

Halloo! Where are the ministers of the moral police, 
whose " charge it is to search through the garden of litera- 
ture, and preserve the place inviolate, and its inmates from 
harm?" Do they expect that " Uriel" will again, come 
" gliding through the even on a sunbeam," to warn them 
that one of " the banished crew hath ventured from the 
deep, to raise new troubles?" 

Or, has the fiend, " with a sleepy drench from the for- 
getful lake," benumbed them into lethargy? 

Long ere now, touched by the talisman of analysis, (with 
which the mortal ministers of that police are armed,) the 
fiend, " squat like a toad, close at the ear of innocence, and 
essaying by his devilish art to work upon the organs of 
fancy;" ought to have " started up, discovered and sur- 
prised." 

Long ere now, led by these ministers before this dread 
tribunal, which the press has established, and in which re- 
ligion and reason, have seated their vicegerents; he ought 
to have been remanded to the " infernal pit." 

But the prediction of the incarnate seraph, shall be ful- 
filled: 



Of Moral Fiction. 211 

" Evil on itself shall back recoil, 

" And mix no more with goodness." 

This Satanic artifice, is doomed, like every other, to be 
detected and exploded. 

A conviction of the radical and irreparable mischief, 
produced by the rage for novel-reading, begins to take root, 
in every thinking mind. There is not an affectionate and 
intelligent parent, a conscientious and experienced in- 
structor, who do not deplore the rage for novel-reading, and 
are not ready to unite their efforts, to arrest and counteract 
it. There is not an ingenuous and tolerably well educated 
youth, whose cheek is not crimsoned with shame, when de- 
tected by his parent or instructor, or even by his friend., in 
perusing the fungous fictions of the day; whose conscience 
does not keenly smite him; as he skulks into a circulating 
library, or, steals into a corner, to eat this " forbidden fruit." 

The tree that bringeth forth this fruit, " shall be hewn 
down and cast into the fire." 

" Fierce in dread silence on the blasted heath 
" Tell Hupas sits:— The Hydra tree of death!" 

But a greater than Hercules approaches! he wields in his 
hand no material club, but a weapon of celestial temper, and 
the " hand that wields it is not of this world!" the Python 
of fiction coils his " scaly folds voluminous and vast:" but 
a greater than Apollo descends! at his glance the monster 
trembles! At the stroke of his " griding sword, with dis- 
continuous wound, the snaky pest, writhes to and fro con- 
volved," in mortal agony. Under the invulnerable heel of 
the avenging vicegerent of divine justice, the head of the 



212 On the Modem Abuse 

u serpent is bruised," and trodden down, to " oblivion's 
deepest grave."* 

The writer will close these observations, on the descrip- 
tions and details of courtship and love in popular novels, by 
adding that they have a tendency to lead persons of susceptible 
and undisciplined minds, into ruinous misconception and mis- 
calculation, in relation to the most momentous subject that 
can occupy the attention of man and woman, on this side 
the grave; because it involves consequences, on which their 
own happiness, and the happiness of their offspring, here 
and hereafter, essentially depend. 

Popular novels produce an effect, scarcely less perni- 
cious, by leading young and inexperienced readers, to form 
a false estimate of the intrinsic and comparative value of 
the constituents of personal happiness; of the accomplisb- 

* The writer cannot adorn his page by a quotation from the 
" Letters of Curti us," without expressing his regret for the prema- 
ture death of their accomplished author, John Thompson, Peters- 
burgh, Virginia. This lamented youth, exhibited at the age of 
twenty-two, a promise of genius and generous ambition, previ- 
ously, and as yet, unparalleled in the annals of American litera- 
ture. " Heu miserande juvenis! Si qua fata aspera rumpas, 
Tu Marcellus eris! 

These letters, (which for elegance of style and energy of in- 
vective, have never been surpassed,) exhibit one of the most 
striking and melancholy proofs of the baneful effects, which the 
inordinate admiration of the " Letters of Junius," have, under 
a government permanently and essentially democratical, a ten- 
dency to produce. 

But Junius will be met again at Philififii! 

Junius and Curtius have perhaps already met in another world: 
and peradventure, each may anxiously wish, that their letters 
could be buried, in " oblivion's deepest grave!" 



Of Moral Fiction. 213 

merits most likely to secure confidence, esteem, distinction, 
and respectability in the world. 

Novel writers in general, greatly overrate the value of 
genius, wit, exquisite sensibility, surpassing strength, cou- 
rage, eloquence, and grace. They seem to forget, that al- 
though it is as easy to impute and multiply those qualities 
in imagination, as their contraries, (as it is as easy to ima- 
gine the existence of a winged horse or a golden mountain, 
as of a dray-horse or a barren rock,) yet, in fact, their ex- 
istence is very rare, and their multiplication, on an extended 
scale, in the highest degree improbable: that these are qualities 
actually bestowed by nature, on one of twenty thousand indi- 
viduals: qualities, which no effort within the compass of 
human power, can confer on any human being, to whom na- 
ture has denied them: qualities, which, like precious gems, 
derive their principal value from their rarity: qualities too, 
which, by a leading" their privileged possessor into extra- 
ordinary " temptations," whilst they impair even the ordi- 
nary power of resisting the " sins that most easily beset," 
poor human nature; are often transformed into instruments 
of exquisite misery to the individual, and of the most exten- 
sive detriment, to the community of which he is a member. 

Many of the most admired novels, have a tendency too, 
to depreciate, in the estimation of unthinking readers, the 
value of good sense; docility; veracity; patience; sobriety of 
temper; steadiness of purpose; self-command; application; 
good humour; prudence and fortitude. Yet these are quali- 
ties, which, or, the capacities for acquiring which; are be- 
stowed by the parental care and maternal tenderness of na- 
ture, on a vast majority of her children. 



214 On the Modern Abuse 

These are qualities that resemble not pride-prized gems, 
but sterling coin, not exquisite viands, but " daily bread," 
not intoxicating wine or alcohol, but living water; for which 
the demand is effectual in every market, and whose value 
neither force, nor fraud, nor fortune, nor fashion, can de- 
preciate or adulterate. 

These are qualities, which are not only capable of culture 
from moral discipline and education, but may be improved 
to an extent, of which it is at this time, difficult to form an 
adequate presentiment 

These are qualities, which, in every stage of existence, 
in every variety of external situation, and under every vi- 
cissitude of fortune prosperous or adverse, are the unfailing 
sources of self-approbation; the best safeguards of virtue; 
the most efficient instruments of usefulness; the most valid 
claim, to public or private confidence. 

These are qualities that "lead" their possessor not "into," 
but from, temptation; and when assailed by forbidden plea- 
sure in the most seductive, or by inevitable danger in the 
most formidable shape, enable him or her, to unmask and 
spurn the one, to confront and subdue the other. 

These are qualities, which in external circumstances 
the most disastrous, in poverty; in exile; in a dungeon; lan- 
guishing under the pain of an excruciating or incurable 
wound; under the cloud and curse of undeserved odium; in 
the gripe of merciless and remorseless cruelty; secure to 
their possessor, an internal tranquillity and happiness, and 
a title to the reverence and admiration of the wise and 
good, so long as their names shall be remembered: a title 



Of Moral Fiction. 215 

which neither transcendant genius, nor matchless beauty, 
nor triumphant courage, nor patrician treasures, nor impe- 
rial power, can bestow. 

These are in fine the qualities, the acquisition and cul- 
tivation of which, is most important to, those who possess 
the more rare, dazzling and envied endowments, with which 
novel-mongers so profusely decorate their heroes and he- 
roines, from which, and from which only, such endowments 
derive their moral value, and without which, these endow- 
ments are the most tremendous scourge with which divine 
vengeance can punish guilty man; or, with which diabolical 
malignity, can seduce and torment innocence and virtue. 

Let any intelligent novel-reader, turn his eye for a mo- 
ment, from the prismatic glass of fiction, and its phantastic 
fairyland, to real life, or, to the images of real life, reflected 
in the mirror of biography and history; let him observe, 
how essentially the happiness of a vast majority of human 
beings, depends upon the undazzling qualities, and useful ac- 
complishments, which novel writers so absurdly undervalue; 
let him observe too, how essentially the happiness and moral 
worth of the few who possess dazzling qualities and or- 
namental accomplishments, depends upon the same causes: 
How unspeakably wretched! how incalculably mischie- 
vous! the darlings of nature, the favourites of fortune, the 
idols of the world, become, by their contempt or neglect of 
undazzling accomplishments and homely virtues; and he 
will perceive, how widely novel-writers deviate from truth 
and nature, and how ruinous are, in this instance, the con- 
sequences of the deviation. 



2 16 On the Modern Abuse 

But alas! it is in vain to refer the novel-reader to his- 
tory and biography: It is another inevitable and most per- 
nicious effect of novels, to indispose the mind to enjoy the 
chaste beauties which works of this sort exhibit, or to reap 
the inestimable instruction they convey. 

Habitual indulgence in the use of condiments, strong spi- 
ces and elaborate cookery, does not more surely indispose 
the palate to relish, and the stomach to digest, simple and 
nutritious aliment; nor does the constant use of diffusible sti- 
muli, (alcohol and opium for instance,) more certainly impair 
the genial action of natural stimuli, on vital sensibility and 
energy. 

To the inordinate admirer and indiscriminate reader of 
novels, the scenes presented by real life, are tame; its plea- 
sures insipid; its business and transactions, irksome; its 
characters, common place: the ordinary topics of conversa- 
tion, are tedious; social intercourse, dull and monotonous: 
even the most extraordinary vicissitudes and incidents, that 
sometimes occur in real life, (in comparison with the wild and 
wonderful adventures which the novelist records,) are felt 
to be flat and uninteresting. 

The novel reader, is constantly disposed to exclaim witk 
Perseus, 

" O curas hominum, O quantum est in rebus innane!" 

Or, with Hamlet, 

" How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, 
Seem to me all the uses of this world " 

If this indifference to the interests and transactions of 
society, were caused by a zealous and exclusive predilec- 
tion to philosophical studies; by a passion for literature, or 



Of Moral Fiction. 217 

any of the elegant arts; or by an enthusiastic, desire to 
achieve any new, liberal or beneficent design, there might 
perhaps be little to regret: there even might be much to ap- 
prove and admire. 

In the intense sensation, and in the constant incentive 
to the steady and energetic exertion of his faculties, 
which such enthusiasm would supply; the individual would 
receive an ample compensation, for his indifference to the 
ordinary pleasures of those around him: his enthusiasm too, 
(if usefully and successfully directed,) might not only com- 
pensate to society for his inactivity in a humbler, by his 
enterprise in a higher sphere of action; but give him a title 
to a place, amongst the benefactors in this world. 

But the indifference to the pleasures and interests of 
real life, which a passion for novel-reading has so strong 
and acknowledged a tendency to engender; makes no com- 
pensation of this sort to the individual, or, to society. It is 
usually accompanied by a marked disgust for philosophical 
studies; for all works of literature and art, that require to be 
examined, compared and analyzed, in order to be enjoyed; 
for all pleasures of this sort, that are not merely like sha- 
dows in a mirror: that are not merely the momentary, bodi- 
less and ever-changing images, which the superficial peru- 
sal and contemplation of such works, reflect on an indo- 
lent imagination, in the day-dreams of intellectual slumber. 

This malady, which may be denominated the disease of 
novel-reading, (the " lethargy" of fiction,) is accompanied 
in all its stages, by a strong, and in its last stages, by a, 

e e 



218 On the Modern Abuse 

cureless and insuperable aversion, to all strenuous exertion, 
mental or bodilv. 

If we imagine a human being, to have inhabited from 
infancy to adolescence, one of those palaces, built of dia- 
monds and rubies, that are described in oriental fictions: 
To have wandered in an Elysium, carpeted with " velvet* 

* The Zoilns of Gray, S. Johnson, has objected to the epithet 
" velvet." The reason he assigns (as usual, where this literary 
usurper and idol, condescends to assign a reason for his dicta and 
dogmas,) will not sustain the stricture. This dogmatist opines 
and pronounces, " that an epithet drawn from nature ennobles 
art; an epithet or metaphor drawn from art, degrades nature." 
It is not so: Amongst a variety of instances, that might be 
quoted, to prove the fallacy of this notion, the writer selects the 
following: 

Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night." 

In these exquisite lines; an epithet, properly applicable to 
one of the humblest and most familiar operations of art, is ap- 
plied to one of the most fugitive, delicate and beautiful, forms 
of nature; a cloud, embellished by the moon-beam. 

" The pillar d firmament is rottenness, 
And earth's base built on stubble." 

" Pillard" and " base," although properly applicable to works 
of art, are here applied, (in a manner, of which every admirer of 
poetry will admit the propriety, and feel the beauty,) not only to 
natural objects, but to the grandest natural objects, presented 
to the contemplation of man; the terraqueous globe and the star- 
fiaved firmament! 

Johnson's objection to the epithet " many twinkling," is equal- 
ly unfounded. He opines and pronounces, " we may say many- 
spotted, but scarcely many-spotting." 



Of Moral Fiction. "219 

green," and enamelled by amaranthine flowers; whose odours 
embalmed an atmosphere, irradiated by perpetual summerf: 
To have reposed, under the shade of trees, whose branches 
bent to earth with ambrosial fruits; while birds of paradise 
expanded their prismatic plumage, and nightingales war- 

The application of " many" to a present, is surely as defensi- 
ble, as its application to a past participle, and has this advantage 
of presenting the idea, with greater vivacity. 

If a surface exhibiting a number of spots, may on that ac- 
count be properly described as many-spotted; the substance by 
which it is stained, (or as the doctor would probably express 
himself, maculated,) may surely Avith equal propriety, be describ- 
ed, as " many- spotted." 

If we admit the correctness of this stricture; how comes it, 
that two lines in Dryden's Ode to St. Cecilia, (in which four 
epithets of this sort occur,) have hitherto escaped animadversion? 

Never- ending still beginning, 
Fighting still and still destroying. 

If the stricture, here quoted, be well founded, these lines 
are surely " many-spotted:" if it be unfounded, such criticism 
may surely be branded, as " many-spotting:" such criticism is, 
indeed, never-ending still beginning, fighting still and still de- 
stroying — ITSELF. 

If this be criticism? Well might Sterne exclaim, " Of all the 
cants, that are canted in this canting world, although the cant 
of hypocrisy is the most odious; the cant of criticism is the 
most contemptible." 

To the radiance of that species of poetry, (a radiance, " unbor- 
rowed of the sun," and in comparison with which his brightest 
beam is dim; his fiercest fires wax wan:) That species of poe- 
try, which is " dark, with excessive bright;" whose imagery, 
is « impaled with circling fire, but unconsumed:" to the enthu- 
siasm of that species of poetry, that lives in light, and laves the 
ethereal " spirit in floods of fire;" Johnson's mind was eye-less, 
and his soul insensible. 



220 On the Modern Abuse 

bled their" love-laboured songs:" To have reclined on the 
"rushy brinks" of rivulets, along whose diamond-spangled 
channels, nectar gushed from u Heliconian founts," and to 
have beheld Genii, on every side, ready to execute, and 
even to anticipate, fancy's " wildest wish." 

It would seem as if the glorious bard, (who " united the sub- 
limity of Milton to the elegance of Pope,") had composed his 
elegy, in indignation at the injustice, or, in compassion for the 
infirmities, of such critics. 

in that exquisite effusion, he sheds so mild and mellowed 
a moon-light, breathes so sober and so solemn an enthusiasm; 
that even the owlish eye of Johnson " glowers" with rapture, his 
torpid sensibility is thawed into a " genial current." 

The charmed critic exclaims, " had Gray written often thus, 
it had been vain to blame, and useless to praise him." 

The exclamation is natural. But beneficence must not be 
exerted at the expense of justice; nor the dole of charity dis- 
pensed from funds, appropriated to discharge the debts of duty. 

Genius, must not desecrate its treasures, nor waste its divine 
energies, to establish the universality of its empire, or display 
the mightiness of its power. 

Genius, may be doomed by " malignant destiny," but may 
not condemn itself, 

" To waste its sweetness on the desert air." 

The sun shines not, to cheer the dismal solitude, or gladden the 
imperfect vision, of bats and owls: he shines to ripen the fruits of 
the earth and the treasures of the mine; to nourish vernal luxuri- 
ance and mature autumnal plenty; to paint the bow in " colours 
dipt in heaven," to array the rose in beauty, and emblaze the gem 
witn radiance; to rescue vegetation from the withering grasp of 
winter, and renovate animation expiring, in the " icy" arms of 
death. 

Let " famished bats and shivering owls," hoot and shriek at 
the glorious sun, " with light and heat refulgent:" Let the birds 
of night court congenial gloom, and invoke the nocturnal lamp. 






Of Moral Fiction. 221 

If we imagine such a being! to be suddenly transported 
into the most gorgeous palace, composed of earthly mate- 
rials, built by mortal hands, and supplied with every facility 
and means of gratification, that wealth, power, art, and sci- 
ence, can procure or invent: was ever dungeon-gloom so 

Night, with all her sickly dews, 

Her spectres wan and birds of boding cry, 

lie gives to range the dreary sky, 

Till down th' eastern cliffs afar 

Hyperions' march they spy, and glittering shafts of war." 

This divine stanza, S. Johnson, thus blasphemes! " In this 
stanza, the poet endeavours to tell something and would have 
told it, had not Hyperion crossed his path." 

Yes! in this stanza the path of the poet is crossed by Hype- 
rion; as the glorious luminary which he is conceived to guide, 
crosses the path of night: to dissipate her shades, disperse her 
obscene birds, and ravish with admiration and delight, the senses 
and the souls of mortals. 

u The heavenly muse, were" indeed " given in vain," and to 
her native heaven she would indignantly re-ascend for ever, if 
such blasphemous babbling as this, could jaundice the eye of 
taste, or suspend the according and cordial plaudit, of enlight- 
ened and indignant admiration. 

What the bard was charged to tell, he has told; in the tone 
and style, that best becomes the hallowed herald of the heavenly 
muse. 

What he was charged to tell, he has told; in " thoughts that 
breathe and words that burn." 

The heavenly muse, holds no communion with the mortal, 
to whom, thus told, her message is enigmatical, or, her messen- 
ger unwelcome. 

Such libellous and malignant cavilling, (however high for a 
time, the authority, and however, in other respects, eminent the 
talents of the caviller,) can serve only to inflame the admiration 
and brighten the glory, with which the poet descends to after 
ages: as the foul vapours and refractive clouds, that folio w the 



222 On the Modern Abust 

dismal to the captive's eye? Did ever hell's " back recoil- 
ing gates, grate harsher thunder," on a demon's ear? Did 
ever the vault, where mortality moulders; emit an odour 
more foetid to the sense,, or noisome to the sensibility of 
living man? Did ever Alchymy absinthiate a chalice, with a 

" march of Hyperion," and sometimes for an hour, darken his 
disk, furnish, as he declines to the west, " the gorgeous drapery 
of his western throne-"* 

From such envious cavilling, such poetry has nothing to fear. 
The rusty and " griding" dagger may pass through it; but " im- 
mortal, the ethereal substance closes, not long divisible." From 
such cavilling, meanwhile, the caviller himself has much to fear: 
posterity will assuredly, re-examine with rigour, the title of 
that critic to judicial aothority on the tribunal of taste; who 
can manifest such glaring caprice and partiality, such want of 
judgment, want of candour, and want of feeling, in his estimate 
of poetical merit. 

To Johnson, the admirer of Gray, may address the sublime 
stanza, in which the Cambrian bard, as he beholds in prophetic 
vision, the future bards of Albion: Amongst whom, had this 
ode been composecl by any of Gray's contemporaries or succes- 
sors, he would himself have occupied, or deserved to occupy, 
a conspicuous place: that sublime stanza, in which the heavenly 
muse proclaims, not her defiance of the power, but her scorn 
at the impotence, of tyrant kings and savage conquerors: That 

* This fine expression, is quoted from an unpublished poem by a young 
American, who, after " warbling his native wood-notes wild" in the forests of 
Kentucky, has wing'd his way to New York, and is about to charm, (perhaps 
is now charming,) the taste of that city, and will charm the admirers of poetry 
throughout the United States, by a tale entitled, " Crystallina:" this production 
will probably claim a higher rank in the estimation of intelligent critics than 
any poetical effusion that has previously issued from the American press: with 
the exception of an * Ode to Time," by Eliza Townsend, of Boston, whose 
understanding is as remarkable for its strength, as her imagination for its 
brilliancy, who has too long languished in obscurity, and " wasted her sweet- 
ness on the desert air." 



Of Moral Fiction. 223 

compound more nauseous? Did ever wheel or furnace, 
more severely try the martyr's fortitude? Did ever knout or 
rafter, more terribly appal the malefactor's sense? Did ever 
the anticipation of infernal torment harrow up the felon's 
soul, with keener agony? Than every sight, sound, odour, 

sublime stanza, which had it been the solitary effusion of his 
genius, would have raised him to a sightless distance above the 
rifte of Johnson: in that sublime stanza, the admirer of Gray, 
may apostrophise this modern Zoilus, and chastise him, as Ulys- 
ses chastised Thersites. 

Fond impious man! think'st thou yon sable cloud 
Rais'd by thy breath, hath dimm'd the orb of Gray? 
Like Phoebus, he repairs his golden flood, 
Enchants eVn Phoebus, with " unborrowed ray," 
And warms the nations, with unsetting day. 

But Johnson is not only the Zoilus of Gray, but the Judas of 
Milton. 

Of Milton! who had he lived in the glorious days of Greece, 
" would have fired the impious wreath on Philip's brow:" 
Milton! who had he existed during the expiring struggle for Ro- 
man liberty, would " have dashed Octavius from his trophied 
car:" Milton! whose solar genius, like the sun in eclipse, " dis- 
astrous twilight shed, o'er half the nations:" Milton! who is des- 
tined to emerge from that " eclipse," like " a new morn, risen on 
mid-noon:" Milton! who old, blind, disconsolate, " fallen on evil 
days and evil tongues," " with darkness and with dangers com- 
passed round," composed the divine poem, to which angels and 
archangels attune their harps: Milton! who soared to heaven, de- 
scended into hell, visited the bowers of paradise, and never, ex- 
cept for a moment, hovered o'er " the dim spot which men call 
earth:" Milton! on whose " mind, through all her powers, celes- 
tial light shone inward and there planted eyes," and shed its 
" purest ray serene," whilst " so thick a drop serene, had 
quenched" his outward " orbs:" Milton! who took fifteen 



I 



224 On the Modern Abuse 

taste, and touch in such a palace, would shoot, through the 
senses to the soul! of such a visitant! 

" He would die of a rose, in aromatic pain." 

His first sensation would be agony unutterable, and his first 
agony, would be his last. 

This picture, although its colouring is overcharged, has 
some resemblance to the effect which indiscriminate and ex- 
pounds in the old world for " Paradise Lost/* because he knew, 
that immortal admiration was its price, and he knew, that pos- 
terity in an old and new world, would pay it: Milton! whose ever- 
" injured shade" all future ages, shall emulously strive to pro- 
pitiate, and to bless: Milton! who 

" Pid but prompt the age to quit their clogs 
By the known rules of ancient liberty, 
When strait, a barbarous noise environ'd him. 
Of oxvls and cuceoos, asses, apes and dogs: 
But this was got by casting pearls to hogs; 
That bawl'd for freedom in their senseless mood, 
And yet abhorr'd the truth that set them free — 
License they meant) when they cried liberty. 

S. Johnson is the betrayer, the blasphemer, the Judas of 
Milton. 

" Milton! thou should be living at this hour, 

Mankind have need of thee, they are a fen, 

Of stagnant waters: Altar, sword and pen 

The heroic wealth of hall and bower, 

Have forfeited their heart-recorded claim, 

To inward happiness: We are sordid men. 

O raise us up, O come to us again! 

And give us, knowledge, freedom, virtue, power! 

Thv soul was like a star and dwelt apart! 

Thou had'st a voice, whose sound was like the sea! 

So did'st thou travel o'er life's common road 

In cheerful godliness: and yet thy heart, 

The lowliest duties on itself did lay." 



Of Moral Fiction. 225 

elusive novel-reading produces, or has a tendency to pro- 
duce, on young, susceptible, and undisciplined minds: It 
exhibits, (although the writer admits, through a greatly 
magnifying medium,) the feelings excited in such minds, by 
a transition from extravagant and phantastic fiction, to the 
scenes of real life. 

Jt may be safely affirmed, that there is no instance of a 
young person of either sex, passionately devoted to novel- 
reading, who does not turn with indifference from the in- 
structive, and, to well-regulated minds, amusing and de- 
lightful volumes of history, biography, voyages, and tra- 
vels: with disgust from Comus and Paradise Lost, and 
with horror, from the disquisitions of Locke and Butler, 
from the. intuitive revelation of Newton, and the profound 
investigations of Davy, or, of Murray. 

And O! that this mental malady, whose taint is so epide- 
mical, and whose victims are so multitudinous, as almost to 
have converted every populous city throughout the civi- 
lized world, into a hospital of " hurt minds' 1 and morbid 
sensibilities: O! that this spectacle, so humiliating to the 
pride, so degrading to the dignity of human nature, could be 

Had Wordsworth written ten thousand lines more worthless 
than his ballads and madrigals, " words, mere words!" often vile 
words, without " rhyme or reason," and worthy only to be the 
shuttle-cocks of punsters, wad to the pellets of a pop-gun, or, 
paper, to wrap up tea or tobacco; had he waged with quaver- 
ing quill and sympathetic ink, his " war of words," through a 
folio of folly, this exquisite sonnet to Milton, would shield him 
from the besom of destruction and the moths of oblivion. 

S. Johnson, with Junius, will be met again at Philippi. 

T f 



226 On the Modern Abuse 

a monitory lesson to those who may have hitherto escaped, 
but are incessantly exposed, to its ever-active and widely- 
diffused contagion. 

But although a catholicon for this malady, is not at this 
time within the reach of any; alteratives and correctives 
may be applied by all. Let fathers and mothers; let guar- 
dians and instructors; let the adult friends and advisers of 
youth, unite to discourage the circulation of these baneful 
productions, and to banish them from the hands of the rising 
generation; not by positive and penal interdiction, but by 
example, expostulation, and the substitution of works that 
blend amusement with instruction. Let all novels of a per- 
nicious tendency, be excluded from public and private, and 
especially from academical and college libraries. As the 
demand for such works languishes, the supply will be ef- 
fectually diminished. At this time, the guilt of encouraging, 
or, abetting the circulation of pestilent novels, is partici- 
pated by a million of readers. Number, in this instance, 
by exhibiting the inveteracy a«d magnitude of the evil, far 
from impairing, increases individual responsibility. As the 
million is made up by addition, it can only be gradually 
diminished by subtraction: If nobody begins, victory will 
never declare for virtue. If every intelligent person of both 
sexes, who entertains a clear conviction of the pernicious 
tendency of popular novels; were to discourage their cir- 
culation, by every legitimate means within their reach, it 
is difficult to imagine how greatly their popularity would be 
checked, even in a few months. A diminution in the tem- 
perature of the atmosphere, inevitably annihilates many 



Of Moral Fiction. 227 

myriads of useless or noxious insects. This is the only 
remedy for the epidemic of fiction, and for every other 
abuse of a free press; and if applied with concert, and 
discrimination, it will probably be found amply adequate 
to the correction of these lamentable abuses. 

At this period, the press, in every civilized country, 
teems with pestilent novels. Where one valuable volume 
in any branch of liberal literature or science is published; 
fifty voluminous novels, spring up with fungous exube- 
rance. * Yet the literary market is never glutted: The de- 
mand equals, and even exceeds, the supply! 

Where one page of history or biography is languidly 
looked over, an hundred pages of improbable and immoral 
fiction, are devoured with eager curiosity. The deposita- 
ries of literature and science, are consulted only by a few 
monastic students, who, satisfied to comprehend the truths 
they contain, have seldom inclination or ability to commu- 
nicate these truths to their unenlightened brethren, or apply 
them to any valuable purpose: who are little disposed, and 
less encouraged, to circulate their knowledge. 

Meanwhile, the narrow and numerous compartments, 
the slender and narrow shelves of circulating libraries; com- 
partments, into which no mechanic force could compress, 
no pneumatic skill could condense, the contents of a folio! 
shelves, which the weight of a solid quarto would shiver 
into fragments! these shelves and compartments, like the 
tiny cells of kindred insects, are industriously replenished 
by a hive of busy, buzzing, ephemeral scribblers, with lus- 
cious love-tales, mellifluous sentiment, and the wax-work of 
audacious and mendacious fiction. 



228 On the Modern Abuse 

" The insect youth are on the wing, 
" Eager to taste the honied spring." 

A swarm of novels wing, or, wind their way through the 
streets and alleys of every populous city; of every rural vil- 
lage; along every road that conducts to any populated re- 
gion, and every bye, or, blind path, that leads from one fa- 
mily to another;* every spot that the industry and enter- 
prize of civilized man, has reclaimed from " waste fertility," 
or, wrested from the savage, in the western wilderness. 
These beetles of sickly and somnolent fancy, these hum- 
ming birds of idle curiosity, these vampires of slumbering, 
unguarded, and unsuspecting intellect; steal into the par- 
lours, into the pockets, into the reticules, under the very 
pillows! of readers of both sexes, and of all classes of 
society, infuse poisonin to the souls, and suck the life-blood 
of innocent or inexperienced youth with the consent, too, 

* In writing this sentence, the recollection of the writer was 
involuntarily turned, to the vicinity of Statesburgh, in South Ca- 
rolina; where, he had the happiness, last summer, to pass a few 
delightful weeks: where Attic society, is embellished by Ar- 
cadian scenery: where Virgil's fine description, and Thom- 
son's finer description of rural felicity, are realized: where 
infancy and childhood in all their innocence; and youth and 
beauty in all their loveliness; and manhood and womanhood in 
all their dignity; and virtuous and venerable age, (combining the 
wisdom that commands reverence, the benevolence that wins 
love, the infirmities that awaken the tenderest sympathy,) unite 
to charm the weary wanderer, who partakes the banquet of their 
unbartered and blessed hospitality. 

In vainl even on the vernal luxuriance of this rural paradise, 
he beheld pestilent novels shedding their baleful mildew, and 
blighting the promise of the *• moral year." 



Of Moral Fiction. 229 

or, at least, the expostulating acquiescence, of the persons, 
to whose custody and counsel, their happiness is confided. 

Whilst the living water of science, is sealed in a thou- 
sand fountains, or stagnates in uncirculating libraries; this 
impure and inebriating stream, meanders through innu- 
merable channels, and alternately excites and slakes, allays 
and inflames, a morbid and insatiable thirst. 

But where! methinks I hear the reader impatiently in- 
quire, where, shall we find a remedy for this radical evil? 
There is probably no adequate remedy, good reader, but 
education, national education, dispensing elementary know- 
ledge, from schools wisely organized; judiciously located; 
and sufficiently multiplied. The misfortune is, that the po- 
tential utility of education, (although incalculably important, 
and almost mathematically certain,) is not sufficiently gross 
and palpable, to rouse the activity of selfish passions. Its 
prospective blessings, from distance and diffusion, seem 
faint and indistinct, to undiscerning eyes. Ignorance cannot 
see them, if it would, and sensuality wallowing in the mire; 
intrigue hunting office; avarice hungering and thirsting for 
lucre; ambition panting, and straining every nerve in the 
race for popularity and power; would shut their eyes on 
these blessings, if they shone in noon-day light! 

Hitherto, more especially in the southern states, even 
patriots, of both parties, have not undervalued the utility 
merely; but overlooked the necessity, of an efficient na- 
tional education, to secure the permanence, to prevent and 
correct the abuses, to realize the promised, and certainly 
attainable blessings of republican liberty. 



230 On the Modern Abuse 

It is indeed a proud and glorious spectacle to the 
American patriot; it is consoling and delightful to philan- 
thropists and to the friends of freedom, in either hemis- 
phere; to behold this young republic, (like the primeval 
ark, freighted with the richest treasure that ever floated on 
the tide of time,) riding triumphantly on the revolutionary 
flood, that has swept away, or for a season, overwhelmed, 
the nations of the old world. 

It is indeed a glorious, consoling;, delightful spectacle: 
And any human creature who can behold it, without feel- 
ing " his imagination kindle, and his heart beat high," 
can be such only in form. 

But alas! the American patriot seems reckless, 

" Of the sweeping whirlwinds' sway, 

That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey." 

Although, 

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr hlows, 
Whilst proudly riding o'er the azure realm; 
In gallant trim the glorious vessel goes, 
Strength at the prow, and Wisdom at the helm. 

It does not surely, require the spirit of prophecy to foresee 
and foretel, the fearful train of calamities and crimes; the 
progressive degeneracy; the insane misrule; the lawless 
anarchy; the all-devouring gulf of destruction and despo- 
tism, that yawn around every community, in which a popular 
government is established: unpillared by national education. 
Well may the American patriot, well may every de- 
scendant of the magna virum mater, every inhabitant of 
insular or continental Albion! rejoice in the actual pros- 
perity and glory, in the prospective greatness, of this young 
republic: the world's best treasure, and " last hope." 



Of Moral Fiction, 231 

Unrol the page of universal history, survey the condi- 
tion of all co-existent nations, and tell me, intelligent 
reader! " What is there, what has there ever been, to be 
compared with it?" 

A continent of vast extent, expanded under every 
climate; covered with a soil inexhaustibly fertile; inlaid 
with every metal that supplies instruments for art, every 
mineral that affords materials for chymical analysis, or me- 
dicinal science; intersected by deep, broad, mighty, yet 
manageable rivers; indented with capacious bays and har- 
bours, that seem to reach out their arms to embrace the 
commerce of the world; washed by oceans, that wash too 
the shores of every distant region, and seem to dash loudly 
their mighty waves as if to invite and importune the victim 
of oppression, and the votary of freedom! to fly for refuge, 
redemption, redress! to the unknown world which they en- 
circle and conceal. 

On this continent, we behold an independent people, 
deriving their descent from the most enlightened nation in 
the old world; commencing their national career under the 
auspices of a government, permanently and essentially re- 
publican: speaking one language, (the most copious and 
nervous of all living languages,) from Maine to Georgia, 
from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, and whilst on one side 
we behold the vast Atlantic, a canal! dug by an almighty 
hand, incapable of dilapidation or decay; over whose blue 
expanse millions of human beings, pass and repass, in the 
course of a lunar revolution, in vessels that ride in triumph 
over the subjugated surge; freighted with the treasures of 



232 On the Modern Abuse 

either hemisphere: On the other, we behold an hitherto 
unexplored extent of vacant and fertile territory, over which 
this people may disperse for a millenium, the vicessimally 
multiplying millions of their descendants! 

In a situation so auspicious, with prospects so .fair; how 
profound should be the wisdom! how consummate the pru- 
dence! how magnanimous the spirit! how pure and elevated 
the ethics! how generous, how expanded, how aspiring the 
souls, of so favoured a people! 

How sage, experienced and patriotic, should be the le- 
gislators! how awful and incorruptible, the judges! how effi- 
cient, how watchful, how venerable the magistrates! how 
sage, how energetic, how high-minded, the instructors of 
youth! how intelligent, how impartial, how intrepid, the con- 
ductors of the press! how diiFusive, how rapid, how various, 
how incessant, the circulation of knowledge! in a political 
community, commencing its career at an cera, subsequent to 
the invention and use of the press, the magnet and gun-pow- 
der, and in a new world: a community, " rising into desti- 
nies beyond the reach of mortal eye," because into destinies, 
that have no prototype in the records of history; no parallel 
in the situation or condition, of any other co-existent nation! 

Yet in vain, have this favoured people obtained the 
fairest part of a new world; in vain, does an unfettered com- 
merce, extract from the collective industry of either hemis- 
phere, whatever can supply their wants, and multiply their 
enjoyments; in vain, does the accumulated wisdom of ages, 
deposit its treasures at their feet: in vain! until the exten- 
sive establishment of classical and scientific schools, shall 



Of Moral Fiction. 233 

afford the flower of the rising generation access, to the 
" daily bread," and living water of knowledge. 

The influence of education in a sphere thus expanded, 
with an efficacy thus mighty; is alike essential to prevent 
the abuse^, and to realize the promised blessings, of republi- 
can liberty. 

Unsupported by this mighty auxiliary; even the press 
'will be lumber, and its freedom, an equivocal blessing. What 
avails the freedom of the press, and uninterdicted access to 
books of every description; unless that portion of the rising 
generation, (who are destined to guide and govern their 
countrymen,) acquire discernment to select, intelligence to 
comprehend, and taste to enjoy, works calculated to liber- 
alize and enlighten their minds? The genial showers and 
sunshine, that fertilize a rich and cultivated soil; are shed 
in vain on the sandy desert, the impenetrable rock, and the 
stormy wave. Unless the minds of youth, are enriched and 
disciplined by liberal education, and exercised and liberal- 
ized by philosophical inquiries; the truths of science, will 
resemble the " unsunned silver of the mine." 

Those elementary attainments, that pave the way for 
the acquisition of profound learning; will resemble the scaf- 
folding and foundation of a noble edifice, unwalled and 
roofless, for want of materials to erect the superstructure. 

Those buds of genius, that might have ripened into in- 
ventive talent, will perish, like the brilliant but abortive 
vegetation of a Siberian summer. A few active and ardent 
minds, inflamed by an enthusiastic love of knowledge, may 
continue to gratify their curiosity, by the perusal of such 

G g 



234 On the Modern Abuse 

books, as accident may throw in their way. But an appe- 
tite whetted by fasting and artificial stimulants, will gladly 
feed even to repletion, on garbage. Novels, will supplant 
biography and history: The toy-shop of experimental and 
empirical physics, will supercede the profound investiga- 
tions of science: The costly trinkets of childish luxury, 
will be preferred to the mimic-creation of imitative art: 
amatory ditties, and baby ballads, will be read and recited 
with avidity, whilst Comus and Paradise Lost, and the dra- 
mas of Shakspeare, and the Seasons of Thomson, and the 
odes of Gray and Collins, and the " Pleasures of Imagina- 
tion" and the " Pleasures of Hope," are forgotten. 

To return from a digression, which will not, (the writer 
trusts,) need an apology to the cis-Atlantic reader. 

There are three distinct stages, or aeras in the progress 
of national education. The first, affords to a majority of 
the individuals of both sexes, who compose a civilized com- 
munity, a competent knowledge and skill, in the art of read- 
ing; but does not couple with this elementary knowledge 
and skill, a sufficient degree of intellectual cultivation, to 
enable any considerable number of individuals, to appro- 
priate their leisure to useful reading. The second aera, 
qualifies many, (perhaps a majority,) to select books cal- 
culated to liberalize and inform their minds-, but make 
no efficient provision, (by the establishment and judicious 
location of well selected libraries,) to supply the de- 
mand for knowledge. The third, and by far the grandest 
and most beneficent SBra, (by maturing and multiplying local 
institutions for the diffusion of knowledge, Athenaeums more 



Of Moral Fiction. 235 

especially, and well selected libraries,) " unrolls the ample 
page of knowledge to the minds" of millions. 

In the American republic; national education in the 
northern states, has reached the first asra, and is advancing 
towards the second. It is during this anxious interval, (this 
interregnum of capricious fashion, restless curiosity and 
unthinking innovation,) that the circulation of pestilent no- 
vels, is most extensive, and their influence most pernicious. 

The last pernicious tendency of popular novels, which 
the writer will attempt to expose and denounce, is, their 
tendency to give a spurious character, and improper direc- 
tion to sympathy, and to misguide young and inexperienced 
minds in their estimate and practice of beneficence. 

Three principal circumstances, conspire to produce this 
most pernicious effect. 

First, the sort of good and evil, pleasure and pain, hap- 
piness and misery, by the representation and description of 
which, the authors of popular novels, usually attempt to ex- 
cite the sympathy of their readers: Secondly, the studied 
exaggeration which they employ, to keep alive and inflame 
this sympathy: Thirdly, the almost invariable omission of 
novel-writers to relieve this sympathy, by pointing out dis- 
tinctly and in detail, the means that may be employed to 
mitigate or heal the misery, to correct the follies, amend 
the errors, and reform the vicious habits, which they ex- 
hibit, in so many affecting and frightful forms. 

The happiness and misery usually described in novels, 
are incident to persons of exquisite feeling, in the flower of 
youth, or in the prime of life: of persons, who occupy eleva- 






236 On the Modem Abuse 

ted stations, inherit ample fortunes, and are exposed to sud- 
den and astonishing vicissitudes of fortune. 

Those who experience happiness and misery in real 
life, are usually persons who possess an ordinary degree of 
sensibility; are found at every stage of existence betwixt 
infancy and old-age: the great majority of the members of 
every civilized community, occupy the middle or lower sta- 
tions in society; obtain the means of gratifying their wants, 
by the regular exercise of bodily labour, or by professional 
ability and skill, and rarely experience any astonishing vi- 
cissitudes of fortune, prosperous, or, adverse. 

The happiness, and more especially the misery, that 
most frequently and imperiously excites sympathy in no- 
vels; is rare, refined and exalted. Other feelings and emo- 
tions, of a character altogether different, are excited to pro- 
voke and nourish, sympathy. Pride and vanity, (infirmities 
that spring from a depraved and inordinate self-love,) lend 
their aid to heighten a sentiment which is in its essence, be- 
nevolent and self-denying. Youth, rank, beauty, and bril- 
liant accomplishments, combine to set off this elegant dis- 
tress; to recommend the sufferer more effectually to the 
interest of the reader; to refine the luxury of wo: to draw 
tears, and streaming tears, from eyes, which the simple tale 
of pity, the sight of mere and real distress, never moistened. 

The misery of real life, as it affects the great majority 
of our species of either sex, and at every stage of exist- 
ence, is inelegant and ineloquent; proceeds from gross igno- 
rance, from credulity, from disease: its victims are often 
old, sometimes ugly and deformed. 



Of Moral Fiction. 237 

The real misery that afflicts the opulent, and those who 
occupy exalted stations, is most frequently caused, by inoc- 
cupation of leisure, and by its inseparable companion and 
proper punishment, life-loathing ennui: by sensuality, by 
pride, by vanity, by envy, by avarice, by profusion, by mis- 
applied beneficence, by profligacy, and want of feeling for 
the misfortunes of their fellow creatures. 

A mind accustomed to sympathise in the elegant misery, 
that is tricked off by novel-writers in the harlotry of imagi- 
nary wo; is necessarily disposed not to survey with indif- 
ference merely, but to revolt with disgust, from living 
misery: so often repulsive, squalid, and even loathsome 
with rags, with filth, with disease; with faculties stupified 
by disuse into impotence, and feelings seared by endurance, 
into insensibility. 

A coxcomb who plumed himself on skill in dancing, or 
any other graceful, but frivolous personal accomplishment, 
would as soon think of felling forest trees, digging in a 
ditch, or delving the ground; as one of these epicures of 
perfumed sighs and sugared tears, highly-rectified wretch- 
edness, and sentimental sorrow, would dream of exerci- 
sing beneficence-, of relieving or mitigating the misery, that 
is perishing for bread, groaning in a garret, or dying in a 
ditch. 

Yet this, is often the wretchedness of real life; the 
wretchedness that makes the strongest appeal to moral sym- 
pathy; that calls most loudly for succour, and to whose 
faintest call, genuine humanity most eagerly and feelingly 
inclines its ear. This, is the wretchedness, the prevention 



238 On the Modern Abuse 

or relief of which, is the proper office, and appointed sphere 
of christian charity and active beneficence: This, is the 
wretchedness, for the relief of which; the rich are com- 
manded in the gospel to appropriate superfluous wealth; or, 
in its simple and emphatic language, " to sell all they 
have:" This, is the wretchedness, which the "word of God," 
and the " voice of nature;" the united dictates of piety and 
virtue, of justice and mercy; command all of us, (each ac- 
cording to his power and means,) to prevent, relieve, con- 
sole, and succour. This, is the wretchedness, the succour 
of which, is the probation of faith and practical piety; the 
ordeal of virtue: the purest emanation, and most unequi- 
vocable evidence, of philanthropy, goodness, and benevo- 
lence. 

Yet this! is precisely the sort of wretchedness, towards 
which, popular novels have a tendency, in the minds of their 
readers, and admirers; to excite indifference, disgust, and 
antipathy. 

The misery, which in novels, incessantly importunes 
commiseration and assails sensibility, with all the artillery of 
artificial eloquence, with the shriek of agony, the hysteric 
laugh of hoiTor, the funereal drapery, and madly drawn. 
ever- glittering dagger of despair; has often no solid claim 
to the sympathy of a well-regulated mind. 

It is often the effect of a morbid imagination, of a distem- 
pered sensibility, of impetuous appetites, of licentious pas- 
sions, of an odious, unfeeling, and exclusive selfishness. 
Dispositions and habits of this sort, are the natural and 
proper objects of moral disapprobation: such dispositions 



Of Moral Fiction. 239 

and habits ought to be described and represented, only for 
the purpose, of exciting that sentiment in the mind of the 
reader; of developing their dreadful effects, both on the des- 
tiny of the individual, and so far as his actions or example 
operate, on social happiness. Amongst these effects, their 
inevitable tendency to deprive their impenitent and irre- 
claimable victim, of all claim, and shut him out from all ac- 
cess, to the confidence and even to the sympathy, of the wise 
and good; is the most terrible, as a punishment, and the most 
salutary, as a warning. 

To steal this unnatural, and depraving sympathy more 
readily, into unsuspecting and susceptible hearts, these im- 
moral dispositions and habits, are artfully blended with bril- 
liant talents and accomplishments; with fascinating man- 
ners, with intrepidity, with skill in the use of weapons of 
offence, with wonderful presence of mind and self-command: 
with occasional acts of generosity and magnanimity, with 
transient fits of good nature, and " compunctious visitings 
of nature," for the moment exquisitely keen: as if the 
agony of these moments, were intended to expiate, or, could 
expiate, the deliberate guilt of the years that intervened 
between these moments, with monstrous, wanton, and accu- 
mulating atrocity! 

By the practice of these arts, which may be emphatically 
designated, black arts- y by aid of these auxiliaries, enlisted, 
selected, and disciplined with diabolical skill; the novel- 
writer succeeds in masking the native deformity of these 
dispositions and habits from undiscerning eyes: he succeeds, 
even in giving them an attractive colouring, (like the fine hues 



240 On the Modem Abuse 

shed by a prism, on rottenness, disease, and death,) which 
not only softens stern disapprobation, into tender sympathy, 
but even exalts it into admiration, and melts it into love. 

Portentous depravation! a sympathy with the misery of a 
sufferer, who may have inflicted countless pangs on innocence 
and virtue, for one that he has himself, or, that she has herself, 
endured : asufferer! who has beheld these pangs with an eye that 
wept not, and a heart that felt not: a sympathy with sufferers! 
(whose sufferings are awarded by justice,) at the very mo- 
ment, when sympathy is refused! to the guiltless and amiable 
victims of their injustice: an admiration! of what is essentially 
detestable! a love! of whatever is most hateful, in the eyes 
of God and man! 

Demoniac sympathy! infernal admiration! unhallowed 
love! 

But the omission, (on the part of the writers of popular 
novels to point out, vividly and feelingly, the means by 
which misery may be relieved, error corrected, and vice 
reformed,) is a sin of omission, not less pernicious to their 
readers than the positive offences, with which they are 
chargeable." 

Bishop Butler, in the profound and inestimable work, 
usually known by the title of " Butler's Analogy;" states and 
establishes a principle, which will enable me, as with a clue, 
to unravel this intricate subject. He has shown it to be a 
fundamental law, and invariable tendency of habit, to weak- 
en passive impressions, whilst it strengthens the propensity 
to, and the power of, active exertion. This principle is of 
universal application, and works uniformly in the formation 
of all habits, good and bad. 



Of Moral Fiction. 241 

The habitual use of alcohol, even although the quanti- 
ty may be gradually increased; produces an effect on the 
sensibilities of the infatuated Bacchanalian, continually di- 
minishing in the intensity of pleasurable sensation, but in- 
flames more and more, his morbid thirst. 

He who habitually resists temptation, feels the impres- 
sion it makes, grow gradually less seductive; whilst the de- 
sire and capacity to resist, acquire increasing strength. 

An eminent surgeon of extensive practice, is gradually 
less affected by the spectacle of pain, however exquisite; 
whilst his promptitude and skill in performing the opera- 
tions by which pain is relieved, improve. 

Domitian felt the infernal gratification, arising from the 
exercise of cruelty diminish, as his desire to inflict pain 
grow stronger and more insatiable. 

Persons who have formed a habit of active charity, are 
less affected by the spectacle of real misery, than persons 
of strong and uncorrupted sensibility, who have not formed 
this habit; but their desire and ability to relieve real misery 
are incomparably greater. 

The light which this principle reflects on the tendencies 
of pernicious fictions, cannot fail to strike every reflecting 
mind. 

The exaggerated descriptions of all the conceiva- 
ble varieties of human misery, which popular novels pre- 
sent; obviously tend to weaken the impression which real 
misery, (so much less diversified and intense,) would other- 
wise make upon the mind: whilst the almost invariable omis- 
sion of the novel-writer, to point out the means by which mi- 

Hh 



242 On the Modern Abuse 

sery maybe most effectually relieved; to accustom the imagi- 
nation of the reader to conceive distinctly, and to dwell upon 
the beneficent use of these means; to anticipate, (and almost 
to realize by vivid anticipation,) the exquisite and unalloyed 
pleasures that prompt, accompany, and bless every exer- 
tion of this sort: The omission of this cardinal duty by the 
writers of moral fiction; defeats the best, and realizes the 
worst effects, which descriptions of imaginary misery have 
a tendency to produce. 

It may seem perhaps, that this objection proscribes fic- 
titious descriptions of misery in every possible shape; inas- 
much, as no real sacrifice or exertion can be made, for the 
relief of unreal wretchedness. 

The reader may weep, and weep blood; he may sigh 
till his very heart bursts, over the imaginary victim of ex- 
quisite suffering, mental or bodily, but it is obviously im- 
possible by any personal exertion, privation, or sacrifice, 
(on the part of the most sympathetic and actively beneficent 
reader,) to rescue a victim, or, relieve a misery, that exists 
only in imagination. 

It is unquestionably true that the only unequivocal proof 
of benevolence is beneficence; which essentially consists in 
making personal exertions and sacrifices, and enduring per- 
sonal privations, to promote the happiness, or, relieve the 
misery of others. 

" To go about doing good;" " To feed the hungry, to 
clothe the naked,' 1 to heal the sick: or, in Burke's beauti- 
ful amplification, " to remember the forgotten and attend to 
the neglected." 



Of Moral Fiction. 243 

" This is the school of charity, of which Christ was the 
founder, and in which his apostles were educated and dis- 
ciplined. In this school, are his followers commanded 1o 
study his doctrines, and practise his precepts: In this school 
only, can self-love be expanded into virtue, and virtue sub- 
limed into piety. God himself displays his benevolence, by 
the sem/iiternal and ubiquitary exertion of omnipotence, in 
the production of happiness. 

No! it must never be forgotten; that the act and habit of 
doing good, is the only solid, valuable, unequivocal evi- 
dence, that we zoish to do good: the only certain means of 
converting a mutable good wish, into a permanent good 
disposition. 

It is equally unquestionable, that the persons whose hearts 
heave, and whose eyes gush; who sigh most piteously, and 
weep most bitterly, over descriptions of imaginary wo; 
who, because they are thus affected, congratulate them- 
selves, (and are half congratulated, half condoled with by 
their friends,) on the humanity of their hearts, the tender- 
ness of their feelings, the gentleness of their nature, the 
benevolence of their souls, are not, on that account the 
more, but may be, on that account, the less disposed, to ex- 
ert active beneficence and christian charity: less disposed to 
sympathize in the sorrows, and relieve the misery of rea* 
life. 

The tears that stream over the scenes of imaginary 
wo, (described in popular novels,) may stream from stony 
eyes, and frozen hearts. Selfishness may shed them: 
avarice may shed them: sloth may shed, them: vanity may 



244 On the Modern Abuse 

shed them: cruelty itself, may indulge for a moment in this 
luxury of wo. The epicures of elegant wo; the gluttons 
of fungous fiction, delight to shed them. They produce 
momentary relief from apathy and langour; a pleasant titil- 
lation of the nerves: They cost nothing, but the conver- 
sion of the blood into a briny fluid, and its effusion from 
the eyes, which, although in theory very mysterious ope- 
rations, are, in act, very easy, pleasant, and spontane- 
ous. They cost nothing: This heightens the pleasure 
which avarice feels in shedding them: They demand no sa- 
crifice of personal gratification: This satisfies selfishness: 
They require no sort of bodily or mental exertion, not even 
the motion of a limb, or even of a muscle: This reconciles 
sloth: Vanity is conscious that the act of shedding tears 
looks amiable, and her tears flow more freely; they bathe 
her cheeks: Cruelty, indeed, so thoroughly unused to the 
melting mood, wonders what can be the matter with her 
eye, (and thinks of consulting an oculist,) but is gratified 
by the novelty of the act, and the strangeness of the sen- 
sation. 

Benevolence beholds the tragic farce with a dry and 
indignant eye: Misanthropy, with a sardonic smile: Piety 
lifts her imploring eye to heaven: Whilst Virtue, with 
down-cast look, weeps bitter tears, over the profanation of 
the finest sympathies of the human heart. 

Still it must be admitted, that simple and pathetic re- 
presentations of real misery; coupled with a detailed ac- 
count of the means by which it may be most effectually 
relieved and prevented; with touching and impassioned al- 



Of Moral Fiction. 245 

lusions to the ineffable pleasure which a benevolent heart 
feels in administering such mitigation and relief, and to the 
benefit which society derives from the exercise and exam- 
ple of benevolence thus directed; have a tendency, and a 
strong tendency too, to awaken, invigorate, and nourish the 
best feelings of the heart; to check inordinate selfishness, 
and to prompt a heart thus awakened and softened, to seek 
and seize with avidity, occasions to exercise its benevolent 
feelings, in acts of humanity, charity, and beneficence. 

These desultory observations, (the greater part of 
which have been written since the printing of the essay com- 
menced,) have, the writer trusts, ventilated and cleared the 
ground for an analysis of the i( theory and uses of moral 
fiction." There is not probably in the vast range of philo- 
sophical speculation, a subject more fertile in original 
thought, or more attractive from the brilliant embellishment 
and striking illustrations of which it is susceptible, and from 
the value of the practical deductions and results, to which 
it conducts the inquiring mind. 

The writer, having (for reasons which have been previ- 
ously assigned,) determined to postpone at present the pub- 
lication of the essay he has prepared on this subject, 
will only add, that it will make its appearance in the first 
part of a second volume, which he hopes, (more especially 
if his exertions are stimulated by the sunny smile of public 
approbation,) to commit to the press in a few months. 

To apply the observations that have been offered, on the 
u modern abuse of moral fiction," to particular novels, is a 



2<i6 On the Modem Abuse 

task, from which the feelings of the writer shrink, with a 
reluctance, wholly unaffected. 

Declining therefore pretensions or wish to execute, this 
delicate, difficult and responsible office; he will only add, 
that all works of this sort, seem to fall naturally into the 
following classes. 

1st. Fictions, that profess to exhibit, correct and striking 
transcripts, of life and manners. 

2nd. Fictions, that exhibit a degree of moral excellence, 
distinctly conceivable, and possibly attainable by man and 
woman; but to which neither history, nor biography nor 
real life, present archetypes nor copies. 

3rd. Fictions, that exercise sympathy by narratives and 
descriptions of a degree of misery, more exquisite and ag- 
gravated, than the victims of extreme wretchedness, in the 
world we live in, actually suffer. 

4th. Fictions, that exhibit a degree of remorseless profli- 
ligacy and guilt; to which human nature in its most degrad- 
ed state, can scarcely be conceived to descend. 

5th. Fictions, imagined for the purpose principally, of 
introducing descriptions of interesting and picturesque 
natural scenery, and wonderful or admirable monuments 
of art. 

6th. FictionSj that embody characters, situations and 
circumstances, within the range, but on the very verge of 
possibility, without supernatural agency; and almost infinite- 
ly improbable. 

7th. Fictions, that describe supernatural agents, and sub- 
ject the vicissitudes in the fortune, and the feelings in the 



Of Moral Fiction. 247 

minds and bodies of human beings; to the control and ca- 
price, of these supernatural agents. 

8th. Fictions, that include all the distinctive features, 
(except the last,) that have been separately designated. 

Availing himself of this distribution; he ventures to 
opine, that Fielding's novels, present the most interesting 
and lively; Smollet's the most humorous and amusive; Miss 
Burney's the most chaste and charming; and Richardson's 
by far the most detailed, diversified, intructive and affect- 
ing, extant specimens of the first class. 

At the head of the second class, he would be inclined 
to place " Hermsprong," " Things by their Right Names," 
" Hugh Trevor," and the character of " Margarite," taken 
singly, in Godwin's " St. Leon." 

At the head of the third he would place without a rival, 
Mrs. Opie's novels, particularly her " Father and Daugh- 
ter," and far below " Sidney Biddulph." 

In the front of the fourth class he would place " Ze- 
leuco." 

In the fifth class, he would place without compeer, or, 
competitor, " Corinna." In that enchanting tale, all that 
survives of imperial Rome, or classical Italy; has an exist- 
ence in time to come, co-extensive with a taste for literature, 
and with the art of printing, and may defy the rage of the 
elements and the barbarian violence of man: Were the colos- 
sal limb that " erst" bestrode the world, to be torn from the 
adjoining continent by an earthquake; were the Cossacks 
in a " whirlwind of cavalry," to sweep its surface and con- 
vert it into a desert; all that is grand, or admirable or 



i 



248 On the Modem Abuse 

lovely in Italy, would still " live in the descriptions, and 
look green" in the eloquence of " Corinna." 

At the head of the sixth class, he would place, (and al- 
most without a rival too,) " The Fatal Revenge:" although 
it would not surprise the writer to find many persons, (whose 
opinions of literary merit are far better entitled to respect 
than his,) disposed to think, that the " Wieland," of the late 
C. B. Brown of Philadelphia, is rightfully entitled to the 
place, which he has ventured to assign to the " Fatal Re- 
venge." 

In the last class, every intelligent reader of novels, would 
probably place twenty or thirty, of nearly equal pretensions, 
and perhaps a majority of suffrages, would place Madam Cot- 
tin's " Exiles of Siberia" and the " Saracen," at their head. 

It is with heartfelt satisfaction, and it cannot fail to im- 
part a proud, and more deeply-heart-felt satisfaction, to his 
fair readers, (and many, he trusts, very many such readers, 
will honour this essay with an attentive perusal), that the 
writer is in duty bound to add, with no unmeaning compli- 
ment, no idle adulation, but with sincerity and truth; that 
the strictures he has offered, on the far greater number of 
popular novels, contain an indirect, but emphatic eulogy on 
the writings of " Maria Edgeworth." 

This incomparable woman; the ornament of her own 
sex, and the instructress of both sexes, and of all classes 
of society, is confessedly the reformer of this species of 
composition. 

The arbiters of literary pretensions, on the most august 
and penetrating tribunal of taste, now existing in the world, 



Of Moral Fiction. 249 

and from whose deliberate sentence, the disappointed can- 
didate for literary honours, can appeal only to posterity, the 
arbiters of this high tribunal, have pronounced, that " if 
critics were permitted to envy a writer, Maria Edgeworth 
is the writer they would envy; for that she has assuredly 
done more good, than any other writer of the age in which 
she lives." What an eulogy on any writer, from such a 
tribunal, and in such an age! Yet there lives not a contem- 
porary writer, whose brow is wreathed with laurel, and 
whose brow is worthy of the wreath; who will not ratify the 
equity of the sentence. 

" She holds the mirror up to nature:" 
" So when a smooth expanse, receives imprest, 
" Calm nature's image on its watery breast: 
" Down bend the banks; the trees depending grow; 
" And skies beneath with answering colours glow." 

Like the huntress Dian, with her dread bow; 



Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 
She tames the bri tided lioness, 
The spotted mountain pard, and sets at nought 



The frivolous bolt of Cupid 

" paints 
colours of truth. 



She " paints the manners living as they rise," in the 



" Folly, as it flies, 
Feels the fatal wound;" 
" Flutters in death, and panting, beats the ground." 

n the night of ignorance, the genius of Edge worth. 



reigns like 

" The moon full-orb'd, and with more pleasing light 
" Shadowy, sets otf the face of things," 



250 On the Modern Abuse 

Nor 

" in vain, 

For all 

" regard:" 
" A thousand liveried angels lacky her, 
" Driving far off each thought of sin and guilt, 
** And in clear dream and solemn vision, 
*' Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear." 

In her thoughts, the lucidus or do and the splendida bilisf 
and in her style, the curiosafelicitas, and the simplex mun- 
ditiis, shed their " selectest influence," and distil their 
" nectar'd sweets." 

Maria Edgeworth has shown, that the facts and analo- 
gies of real life, afford better materials for instructive, and 
even for amusing fictions; than imaginary characters, and 
improbable adventurers. 

It is natural, and accords perfectly with the operations 
of sympathy, as they are expounded by Adam Smith in the 
"Theory of Moral Sentiments,"* that we should feel a 

* With a view to the advantage of a class of readers, 
(ingenuous youth of both sexes,) who, from the first sentence 
of this essay to the last, have never been for a moment forgot- 
ten, the writer takes occasion to express his deliberate and ma- 
ture conviction: That of all ethical treatises extant, the u Theory 
of Moral Sentiments," is, in his judgment, the most valuable. 

In this treatise, Smith has done, with regard to the feelings 
of the human heart, what Locke has done with regard to the 
operations of the human understanding. 

The simplicity of its principles; the clearness, connection, 
and gradual complication of its reasonings; the felicity and 
beauty of its illustrations; the practical utility of the lessons it 
inculcates, and the simple and often sublime eloquence, with 
which it is throughout embellished; combine to make this vo- 
lume, the most edifying ethical manual; the richest present, 



Of Moral Fiction. 251 

deeper interest in fictitious characters and actions; in pro- 
portion as they are conceived to resemble in their moral 
and intellectual features, those of ourselves and our asso- 
ciates. 



that genius and wisdom have ever offered, for the instruction of 
youth. 

Hitherto the practical value of this work seems to have been 
greatly underrated, and its nature and object misconceived. It 
is not a system of moral philosophy, but a series of elementary 
explanations, in relation to one of the most important, (perhaps 
the most important department,) of morals. A predilection for 
system, and premature synthesis, has been as injurious to the 
intellectual improvement; as a passion for dominion and univer- 
sal conquest, has been to the freedom and happiness of man- 
kind. 

They spring from the same cause, ambition; and in both 
cases, the votary of ambition 

ij!! 

*' Exchanges solid strength, for feehle splendour." 

From the obvious and distinctive meaning of the word 
sympathy, it follows, that we cannot, by its agency, explain the 
nature of a//, or the origin of any, of our moral sentiments. 
Sympathy palpably implies, not the co-existence merely, but 
the pre-existence of feelings or sentiments, in the heart of one or 
more human beings; with which it conveys the idea of accord- 
ance in the heart of another, or in the hearts of others. 

A complete theory of moral sentiments must embrace an 
analysis of the primary and pre-existent feelings; of which all 
social and sympathetic emotions and passions are but the copies, 
the shadows, and the echoes. 

A picture presupposes an original: On the fidelity and mi- 
nuteness of its resemblance to which, the perfection of the pic- 
ture depends, and it is only by a nice observation, and luminous 
analysis of the original, that we can ascertain the defects and 



■ 



252 On the Modern Abuse 

The interest we feel, must be intense and durable, in 
proportion as they possess the qualities and accomplish- 
ments we are most accustomed to value; the virtues we most 
cordially esteem, revere, and love; the vices we most cor- 

merits of the picture. It is only by a careful comparison of the 
one with the other, that we can fairly appreciate the skill, or un- 
skilfuiness of the artist. 

Refraction reflexion, 8cc. in optics, presuppose a knowledge 
of the matter or motion, or of both, that constitute light. 

In acoustics, we must comprehend the principles that occa- 
sion the production and propagation of sound, before we can 
develop the causes on which its reverberation depends. 

But although in morals it were preposterous to contend, 
that every thing depends upon sympathy, it must be evident to 
every competent inquirer that much depends upon this prin- 
ciple: in fact, that of all the principles that modify our moral 
sentiments, its influence is the most marked and extensive: 
That although we cannot by a knowledge of its operations ex- 
plain completely the nature of any of our moral feelings, yet it 
has much to do with almost all of them; and is of the very 
essence of all motives, affections, passions, and emotions, which 
are by way of contradistinction and eminence styled social: All 
those motives, affections, passions, and emotions, from the cul- 
tivation and exercise of which, whatever is emphatically styled 
virtue, derives its very being. 

Another and a more dangerous error in " The Theory of 
Moral Sentiments," proceeds from holding up the feelings 
of the unconcerned spectator, as a criterion, by which to deter- 
mine the correctness of the feelings of the person, principally 
concerned. 

The author is led into this error by confounding, (what his 
illustrious friend and countryman David Hume, so profoundly 
ana carefully distinguished,) the separate and peculiar provinces 
of reason and conscience. 

In a lively and habitual fellow-feeling with the pleasures 
and pains, the happiness and misery, of all the conscious and 



Of Moral Fiction. 253 

dially detest; the follies we most cordially despise; and the 
infirmities we are most prone to commiserate. 

To keep alive, and nourish this interest, the creatures 
of fiction must be placed in situations, which we can clearly 



sentient beings around us, those more especially of our own spe- 
cies; in a heart-felt and ever-active desire, to impart pleasure 
and alleviate pain, humanity and virtue essentially consist: This 
fellow-feeling and desire, constitute the appropriate sphere of 
conscience; but in ascertaining what constitutes good and evil; 
in choosing the greater good and rejecting the greater evil; in 
devising the most effectual means of promoting or imparting 
happiness, of alleviating or averting misery; we can be govern- 
ed only by the dictates of reason, enlightened by revelation or 
experience. Mere benevolence, however ardent and disinter- 
ested, is not virtue. The fond mother, who from ignorance of 
the means of doing good and imparting happiness, ruins her only 
child by injudicious indulgence, cannot surely be regarded as a 
virtuous mother. Knowledge alone, however comprehensive 
and profound, is not virtue; for the meanest of the fallen angels 
may be conceived to possess more knowledge, than La Place 
Cuvier, or Humboldt. Faith alone is not virtue, for even devils 
" believe and tremble." Virtue must consist therefore in the 
union of benevolence, with wisdom; in combination with the 
self-command and fortitude, that arm the individual, (in whose 
character these essential constituents of virtue are blended,) to 
confront bravely and endure patiently, the inevitable ills of life. 
Thus constituted, virtue is sublimed by religious faith, into piety. 

These errors meanwhile, even (if their existence in the 
" Theory of Moral Sentiments" be admitted,) are evidence rather 
of its incompleteness, than of its imperfection, and evince, not 
that its explanations are incorrect as far as they extend, but 
that they are not sufficiently extended. 

To professional instructors of youth, the value of the Theory 
of Moral Sentiments, is inestimable. The instructor who tho- 
roughly comprehends and skilfully applies its principles, will 



254 On the Modern Abuse 

conceive; be actuated by motives, of which we can dis- 
tinctly feel the efficacy; be exposed to the temptations by 
which we have been ourselves beset, and found it most dif- 
ficult to resist; and perform actions, of which we can mi- 
nutely trace the consequences. 

In the perusal of such fictions, our curiosity is more 
eagerly excited and uniformly sustained; our sympathy or 
antipathy are more lively and determinate. 

Extraordinary characters and adventurers, excite sur- 
prise, wonder, astonishment, amazement, admiration, and 
horror; emotions essentially violent, and therefore transient. 

A genuine and vivid sympathy, is the only feeling in 
which the author of moral fiction can rely; who wishes to 
excite and keep alive in the mind of the reader, a deep, 
enduring, and unbroken interest, from the commencement 
to the close of the narrative. 

Philosophy had fully established the truth of all this, 
previous to the appearance of Maria Edgeworth's writings; 
but these were necessary to bring home a persuasion of 
these fc-uths, to the " business and bosoms" of all classes of 
readers. 



be qualified to correct the errors of his pupils; not by stripes 
and fines and coercive restraint, but by affectionate expostula- 
tion, by energetic remonstrance, by seasonable admonition. He 
will exchange the frown and ferrule of the pedagogue, for the 
august authority of the academic sage. 

A teacher of moral philosophy who omits to put this book 
into the hands of his pupils, falls into an error not less egregious 
than that of a teacher of natural history who should omit to fa- 
miliarize his pupils to the use of the solar microscope. 



Of Moral Fiction. 255 

Her writings display also uniform evidence, that her 
hne genius is under the constant control of an enlightened 
conscience; of a severe sense of duty. 

On the altar of duty, she offers up, not fitfully, and with 
effort, but habitually and spontaneously; the most precious, 
and (in the sight of God,) the most acceptable of all sacri- 
fices, the sacrifice of popular applause and admiration. 

It is evident that she could amuse the mob of readers 
more exquisitely, if she would: But she will not, excite ad- 
miration at the expense of self-disapprobation; amuse when 
and where, she thinks it her duty to instruct; flatter where 
she ought to warn; tolerate, when and where, she ought to 
denounce, and ransack and rack her imagination in fashion- 
ing idle tales, for the gratification of those famished minds 
that are perishing for want of the " daily bread" of sound 
knowledge; or of the " diseased minds, that have vainly in- 
voked the physician, to 

Pluck from the mem'ry a rooted sorrow 
Rase out, the written troubles of the brain, 
And cleanse the bosom of the perilous stuff, 
That hangs upon their hearts.'* 

Nor are her efforts to amuse and inform, confined to any 
one class of society; or, to any one stage of human life. 

There exists not, probably, wherever the English lan- 
guage is spoken, a human being of either sex, in the inter- 
esting and critical stages of early youth, descended from 
parents possessing any degree of intelligence; whose facul- 
ties the writings of Maria Edge worth have not assisted to 
develop, and who will not be indebted to the study and 
perusal of her writings, for the good they may do, and the 
happiness they may enjoy in the maturity or decline of life, 



256 On the Modern Abuse 

There is scarcely a child, wherever the English lan- 
guage is spoken; who has access to the sources of intellec- 
tual improvement, in whose simple and artless prayers, 
Maria Edgeworth has not a claim to be remembered. 

Wise and accomplished must that mother be, above the 
ordinary lot of woman; who, in performing her most deli- 
cate and momentous maternal duties, will not be aided by 
the " Parent's Assistant." 

How many thousand; surely I may ask, how many hun- 
dreds of thousands, in the middle and humble walks of life; 
are indebted, and will continue to be indebted, to " The Po- 
pular Tales," for the correction of some baneful prejudice; 
the reformation of some perverse habit. 

Even the arch-enchantress Fashion, who has so long 
defied the sage's, the moralist's and the preacher's power, 
has been taught to tremble at Belinda's name. 

Her votaries have shrunk appalled from their own 
images, reflected in the glass of moral fiction. Even now 
the enchantress trembles at her power! 

" A cold shudd'ring dew 
" Dips her all over:" 

She foresees that the hour is nigh, when, 

" All her magic structures reared so high," 

Will be 

" Shattered into heaps, round her false head."* 

* To break the speii of this imp of vice and folly; (the off- 
spring of unfeeling selfishness and feudal monopoly,) is an 
achievement worthy of the genius, and appropriate to the sex, of 
the illustrious writer. 



Of Moral Fiction, 257 

But it does not satisfy the noble ambition of Maria 
Edgeworth, to exhibit the most accurate transcripts, the 
liveliest and most elegant pictures of life and manners: She 
aspires to execute, and she has admirably executed, the 
highest office of moral fiction, 

THE EXHIBITION OF MODELS. 

In " Belinda," she has taught the ingenuous and inex- 
perienced reader, not to collate and compare the imperfect 
transcripts of living excellence with each other; in conse- 
quence of which, vice often escapes detection, by insinuat- 
ing itself, under different names and forms, into every 
transcript: not to contrast exalted virtue with remorseless 
profligacy, by which an admiration and abhorrence, neces- 
sarily excessive, are always excited: Not to regard the 
virtues and accomplishments of a great character, as an ex- 
piation for the vices and infirmities with which they are 
alloyed: by which moral sentiment is corrupted, and con- 
science suborned. 



Although this enchantress has fastened her spell on the 
titled, and the opulent of both sexes; yet woman, in this state of 
factitious opulence and elevation, is her most infatuated votary, 
and her selected victim. 

If we imagine the inferior animals, (those more especially 
with whom man is most familiar, and whose organization ex- 
hibits some semblance of affinity to human nature, the parrot, 
the magpie, and the monkey;) to have prevailed on some spor- 
tive demon to degrade its dignity, and avenge by thus degrading 
it, the imperial dominion which man has immemorially as- 
serted and maintained; we may plausibly account for the origin 
of fashion. But fashion too, will be met again at Philippi. 

Kk 






253 On the Modern Abuse 

In " Belinda," the ingenuous reader is led to compare 
the various shades and modifications of virtue and vice in 
the human character, with that moral standard; the applica- 
tion of which, detects latent imperfections in the most ex- 
alted characters and unobserved virtues in the most de- 
praved: brings home to every reflecting mind a humbling 
consciousness of the frailty of human nature, and animates 
all to pursue and imitate the excellence, which none can 
hope fully to attain and realise: represses excessive self- 
estimation even in the best, and shields even the worst from 
despair: moderates the idolatry of superlative merit, into 
enlightened admiration, and mingles fraternal sympathy 
with the feelings, excited by irreclaimable and remorseless 
depravity. 

There exists a striking and beautiful analogy, between 
the effects of the elegant arts on the face of nature, and 
those of moral fiction, (when fashioned by genius, philan- 
thropy and taste,) on the human character.* 

* This analogy was suggested by some observations, in the 
first part of Allison's elementary, luminous and elegant essay 
on Taste; a work modelled on the plan of the theory of Moral 
Sentiments, and which, like that work, ought to be one of the 
manuals of ingenuous youth, in every course'of liberal education. 

In the original plan of the essay, (as it is explained by the 
ingenious author,) it was divided into three parts, of which the 
first only has been published: The writer cannot surely be mis- 
taken in conjecturing; that its completion is eagerly, and even 
impatiently expected by intelligent readers, throughout the 
republic of letters. 

Has not the author been betrayed into a radical error, in 
considering the trains of imagery, which excite what he styles 



Of Moral Fiction. 259 

In a fine landscape-painting, the artist not only groups 
the scattered charms and attractions of a thousand 
scenes; and embodies in a form palpable to every eye the 
consummate and ideal beauty, which was previously visible 
only to the " prophetic eye" of taste; but the contemplation 
of the painting, rouses the ambition and guides the skill of 
the agricultural artist and ornamental gardener, in stamping 
the semblance of this ideal beauty, on a portion of the ter- 
raqueous surface. 

By the use of language, by the expression of " thoughts 
that breathe" in " words that burn," the poet is empowered 
to " snatch a grace, beyond the reach" of the painter's or 

the " emotion of taste," as connected principally or exclusively, 
by resemblance? Is not causation, in almost every such train of 
ideas, the connecting principle? Ought not an analysis of the 
principles, on which sublimity, beauty and other affecting quali- 
ties, which are the objects and idols of taste, depend; to have pre- 
ceded the attempt, to resolve these qualities, (as they are exhi- 
bited in the phenomena and scenery of the material universe) 
into association? 

Has not every successful or celebrated writer, (who has 
investigated any department of the philosophy of the human 
mind, since the publication of Hartly's great work,) been as- 
sisted, and even guided in his inquiries, by the principle of the 
" Association of Ideas;" as it is generalized and illustrated in 
that work, and in the admirable notes which are subjoined, by 
the writer forgets who? 

Is not Doctor Reid's attack on the philosophy of Hartly, 
levelled, not at the edifice which he has erected, (which will be 
found inassailable probably by the force of any kind of sense, 
« common," or uncommon;) but at the cumbrous and fragile 
scaffolding, by which the entrance to the noble edifice is ob- 
structed, and its beauty defaced. 



\ 



2G0 On the Modern Abuse 

the sculptor's " art;" to display in the images, that " live in 
description and look green in song," those purer and diviner 
models of beauty, which are not only without archetypes 
in nature, but are of a character too spiritual and refined to 
be imitable even by the chisel of Phidias, or, by the 
pencil of Appelles, and which it were profanation to attempt 
to sketch, with the rude implements of the agricultural 
artist! 

To transfer the beauties of Milton's description of Eden 
to any external scene, would be possible only by the labour 
of angelic, or, arch- angelic hands. 

It is in the representation and description of ideal beau- 
ty, that the excellence of the works of imitative art con- 
sists; and it is the effect of the public exhibition, attentive 
contemplation and extended circulation of such works, in 
purifying taste and embellishing the form and aspect of ma- 
terial nature; that constitutes their utility and their glory. 

It is the high prerogative of the imitative (as distinguish- 
ed from merely manual and mechanic) arts, not to copy with 
blind admiration and servile toil, the aspect of external na- 
ture, deformed as it necessarily is by the fall of Adam, and by 
the curse pronounced by the Creator, on his apostate crea- 
ture; but by " bodying forth," those images of ideal beauty, 
(which seem to be susceptible of revival, by a sort of reminis- 
cence,) and stamping their semblance on inanimate matter; 
to restore a faint vestige of the primaeval beauty which 
adorned the earth, when it sprang from Chaos, at the com- 
mand of God, and glowed with ineffable beauty under his 
approving smile. 



Of Moral Fiction. 261 

Liberal literature, and that sort of literature more 
especially, that falls under the denomination of moral fic- 
tion; is capable of producing a similar effect, on the charac- 
ter of civilized man. 

By the skilful selection, striking assemblage, and lumi- 
nous exhibition, of those features of moral and intellectual 
beauty, which in real life are found singly exhibited in the 
characters of a thousand individuals, and not only detached 
from each other, but conjoined with different and opposite 
features; by heightening a little, but always with the closest 
regard to probability, the degree in which amiable or admi- 
rable qualities really exist; the inventors of moral fiction, 
may display models of excellence, in a light so dazzling, as 
to awaken the admiration of every ingenuous mind: with 
an eloquence so persuasive, and a pathos so powerful, 
as to convert that admiration, into a noble enthusiasm to 
imitate these models. 

The profound contemplation of these divine models, 
especially when embodied in the drama; impersonated by 
histrionic representation, and embellished with all the graces 
and charms of consummate acting; addressing for the mo- 
ment, our souls through our senses, electrifying the feelings 
of the spectator and auditor, by looks, tones, gestures, and 
attitudes, and transmitted through the medium of living 
sympathy, (whose force in a crowded audience rises in 
intensity, like the heat of a reverberatory furnace,) cannot 
fail to leave the most delightful and salutary impression on 
every susceptible, cultivated and uncorrupted mind. 



262 On the Modern Abuse 

By assembling too, in one character, the unamiable and 
immoral qualities; which not only exist separately in real 
life, but are often blended with virtues and accomplish- 
ments, that veil their deformity from undiscerning eyes, and 
even give them a fascinating attraction, and epidemic taint 
to young and susceptible minds; moral fiction may be em- 
ployed to exhibit every immoral quality, in its native malig- 
nity and naked deformity. 

Thus employed, moral fiction may dissolve this fascina- 
tion, and neutralize this contagion; by developing all the 
evils, immediate and remote, personal, and social, which 
such qualities have a tendency to produce. 

Thus employed, it may excite in the mind of the reader 
an abhorrence for vice, and a contempt for folly, in every 
shape they can assume: detect them in every lurking place 
however secret, strip them of every disguise, however artful, 
and detach them from every virtue or accomplishment, how- 
ever amiable or attractive, with which they may be asso- 
ciated. 

The practical utility of moral fiction, thus employed, is 
peculiarly striking and grand in a community, that has 
adopted a form of government, permanently and essentially 
popular. 

The vices that contaminate the national character of a 
free people, are always associated with virtues which veil 
their deformity: These vices, in consequence of this asso- 
ciation, not only escape just animadversion, and obtain 
toleration, but even indulgence and favor; and from the ex- 
tent of their prevalence, and the frequency of their recur- 



Of Moral Fiction. 263 

rence, (like whatever else becomes familiar,) often escape 
the scrutiny of the most discerning, and the reprobation of 
the most virtuous minds. 

Thus employed, with adequate ability and skill, moral 
fiction may unmask vice in all its Protaean shapes; may mail 
even the heel of ingenuous youth, (retreating " from tempta- 
tion,") against the barb of its poisoned and Parthian ar- 
rows. 

It has been finely conceived; (such is the essential love- 
liness of virtue!) that if she were to present herself to out 
view, in the human, and of course in the female form; she 
would ravish with admiration the heart of every beholder, 
and either overwhelm the victim of vice with despair, or 
infuse into his heart the desire, and implant the seeds, of 
radical reformation. 

It may be added, (such is the essential deformity of 
vice!) that if she were presented to our view in any living 
form, (human it could not be!) her most remorseless and 
impenitent slave would shrink from her embrace, with a 
loathing, scarcely less abhorrent and implacable, than would 
be felt by the votary of virtue. 

Moral fiction, when it reaches a certain degree of at- 
tainable, or, at least, conceivable excellence, may produce 
the effects, that would be produced by these awful personi- 
fications of virtue and vice, if they were actually animated 
and embodied. 

As a moral instrument, fiction may be employed with far 
greater efficiency, than history, biography, or philosophical 
disquisition: But the analysis and illustration of this most 



264 On the Modem Abuse 

interesting and important subject, belongs to the Essay, 
" on the Theory and use of Moral Fiction." 

Maria Edgeworth, has confessedly executed the most 
delicate and difficult office of moral fiction, with far greater 
ability and skill than any of her predecessors, or contem- 
poraries: Yet all that she has done, is but the type and 
shadow of what remains to be achieved, by the geniuses 
who are hereafter destined to soar with aeronautic skill, 
into this truth-illumined sphere. 

But although more, infinitely more! remains to be ac- 
complished, Maria Edgeworth has done much. 

Intimately conversant with the profoundest disquisitions 
of moral philosophy, and accustomed to analyze all the va- 
rieties and anomalies of human nature, as they are reflected 
in the mirror of biography and history, or as they exist in 
the characters of her contemporaries of both sexes, and 
of all classes; uniting the highest power of genius, inven- 
tion, with its fairest ornament, cultivated taste, and its surest 
safe-guard, an enlightened conscience; and adding to these 
rare endowments, the scarcely less rare and valuable habit 
of accurate observation of life and manners; she has not 
only risen to unrivalled eminence, but soared to a solitary 
elevation, in this species of composition. 

Proudly she will not, scornfully she can not, but she may 
securely look down, on the most successful of her predeces- 
sors and on the most successful also, of her living rivals. 

Illustrious, blessed, enviably happy woman! she may 
look forward, as far as her mind's eye can reach, on the good 
which her li works" have done, are now doing, and the 



Of Moral Fiction. 265 

greater good, which they will hereafter do. She may survey, 
(but she cannot number!) the fathers and mothers, the sons 
and daughters, the human creatures of both sexes; at every 
stage of existence, and in every condition of society, whom 
she has instructed and delighted. 

To that glorious elevation, can ascend only the accord- 
ing plaudits of the tribunals of criticism and taste, sounded 
by fame's adamantine trump, whilst far below, the murmurs 
of envy and illiberality, expire on faultering lips and alie- 
nated ears. 

In that glorious elevation, 

Converse sweet with heavenly habitants 

Will 

Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape, 
The unpolluted temple cf the mind, 
And turn it by degrees to the soul's essence 
Till all be made immortal. 



l! 






ADDITIONAL NOTES. 



IN consequence of the unusual, and, in some measure, 
unavoidable haste, with which the contents of this volume 
were prepared for the press; several notes have been ex- 
cluded from the pages containing the passages to which they 
refer: The notes thus excluded are here subjoined, with 
distinct reference to the appropriate passages. 



The following note ought to be read in connexion with the 
5th paragraph of page 7th, of the first Essay. 

But if we take a more enlarged and philosophical view of 
oratory, even the theorems of mathematical, and the principles 
of physical science, may fall within the legitimate sphere of 
this glorious art. 

This opinion, however startling and paradoxical it may 
seem, is not wholly indefensible. 

Imagine, a great mathematician or natural philosopher, 
demonstrating such a theorem, or elucidating such a princi- 
ple, in the presence of an audience, sufficiently enlightened 
to comprehend the progressive steps of his reasoning, as they 
are embodied by the utterance of the speaker: Imagine, that 
with perfect distinctness of articulation, propriety of emphasis, 
a modulation of voice agreeable to the ear, and suitable dig- 
nity and vivacity of manner; he unfolds a principle, that en- 



26 S Additional Notes, 

larges the boundaries of human knowledge, and reveals the 1 
arcana of nature, to the inquiring mind. 

Feeling the most unshaken conviction of its truth and 
importance; and elevated by a consciousness of intellectual 
dignity, superiority, and power; with what earnestness does he 
investigate, with what perspicuity develop, with what felicity 
illustrate, its evidence and utility? 

But it is asked, can oratory be displayed, in an appeal to the 
understanding solely? in reasoning merely, with logical preci- 
sion from incontrovertible principles? Is not the excitement of 
the imagination and passions, essential to all the exertions of 
this art? 

What! do no emotions accompany the discovery, develop- 
ment, and illustration of a new and important truth? 

Whilst the exhibition of its evidence concentrates the at- 
tention, and calls forth all the energy of the understanding, is 
not imagination at the same time busy, in anticipating its future 
uses and applications? 

But a graceful and impassioned elocution is essential to 
every exertion, and to the very existence of oratory; and can an 
elocution of this sort be displayed, in the development of 
abstract truth? 

Displayedl ay, with irresistible energy. 

Can the countenance be vacant, or the ey be dim, the hand 
motionless, or the utterance frigid or monotonous; when the 
light of eternal truth irradiates the understanding, when the 
heart swells with the divine enthusiasm which it inspires, and 
with a lively anticipation of the unspeakable benefits, which it 
has in store for mankind. 

Of faculties and feelings thus stimulated and expanded, an 
impressive, although not a graceful elevation, becomes the sfion- 
taneous emanation, the natural interpreter: Thus roused and 
irradiated, the effulgent mind, seems for the moment, to " cast a 
beam on the outward shape." 

These were the themes of the oratory, that ravished the 
senses and the soul of Adam, as it flowed from the lips of Ra- 
phael: Whilst Adam listened to this seraphic oratory, he be- 



Additional Notes. 269 

came unconscious, even of the divine beauties of Eden; the 
lovely mother of mankind, forgotten and unobserved, averted 
her eye from the fatal apple! at that moment, even the tempter, 
had shrunk in conscious impotence from her ear, and listened 
with reluctant rapture, to the seraph's tongue: These are the 
themes of the oratory, that would have exercised the genius of 
his descendants, had man never fallen: These probably are the I 

themes of the oratory, through the medium of which, superior 
orders of intelligent beings, throughout the universe, commu- 
nicate to inferior; their ample and continually expanding know- 
ledge, of its laws. 

True it is, that oratory of this sort, awakens neither in the 
mind of the orator, nor in the minds of his auditors, the passions 
of terror or pity, scorn or abhorrence, indignation or contempt: 
True, it awakens no merely human passion or emotion; no pas- 
sion or emotion that ministers to the wants and desires of our 
gross and corruptible bodies; no passion or emotion in which 
superhuman intelligences, may not be conceived to sympathize: 
Nor does it adn.it the exhibition of that elegant> but phantastic 
play of imagination, those tasteful but unreal combinations of 
imagery, or of the use of that figurative diction; from which po- 
pular oratory derives its attractive, and meretricious charms. 

But shall an art, which is at once the offspring, the organ 
and the ornament, of the noblest faculties of our nature, the fa- 
culties of intellect and speech; be relegated to the excitement 
of those impure passions, that are the strongest evidences of 
its imperfection, and the prime sources of misery and vice? or 
conceived to consist wholly in those illusions, so idolized by 
undisciplined imagination, and in the use of that barbaric diction, 
so delightful to corrupted taste; which have the strongest ten- 
dency to inflame those passions, and mar the progress of good 
sense, and science. 

It must be admitted meanwhile, that these are «ot the themes 
on which oratory can generally exert its powers, with most ad- 
vantage and success: At this time, the number of individuals 
who can truly enjoy oratory of this sort, is very inconsiderable. 
Mathematical and physical truths, especially such as belong to 



270 Additional Notes. 

pure mathematics, are in general too little understood, too 
difficult of comprehension; too remotely connected with the 
personal, domestic and national interests, that occupy the atten- 
tion and agitate the passions of mankind, to be adapted to the 
purposes of popular oratory. 

Slowly discovered by the philosopher in his closet, often the 
accidental results of experiment and observation, truths of this 
sort, are detailed in books; from which they are extracted by 
solitary and often painful efforts of attention and reflection, and 
are only susceptible of the charms of oratory, when illustrated 
by an accomplished lecturer, in the presence of a select and 
miscellaneous audience. 

These observations have been offered solely for the purpose 
of vindicating the claims of this noble art to dignity and pre- 
eminence; of showing that its empire is co-extensive with the 
powers of intellect; that there is no walk of literature, no de- 
partment of science, no invention of art, which it is not fitted to 
illustrate and embellish. 



The following note ought to be read in connexion with the 
first paragraph in page 1 47, Essay second. 

Campbell in his admired essay on miracles, has attempted 
to prove not that Hume's celebrated argument is inapplicable 
to the miracles recorded in the Old and New Testaments as 
evidences of the divine origin of Christianity; but to invalidate 
the force of the argument, in relation to the credibility of mira- 
cles generally. 

This ground is altogether untenable, and its venerable au- 
thor in his attempt to maintain it, is inevitably betrayed into 
false logic at every step. 

For instance — he urges " if our belief in testimony be as 
Mr. Hume contends, founded in experience; it will follow, that 
the wider our experience, the stronger ought to be our pro- 
pensity to accredit the truth of evidence resting on testimony, 
but the contrary is the fact: During the early stages of human 



Additional Notes, 271 

existence the human mind reposes unlimited faith in testimony: 
It is only as we advance in life, in other -words, as our experi- 
ence extends, that our reliance in the truth of testimony is mo- 
dified and limited." 

Tnis if the writer recollects aright is the substance of Camp- 
bell's observation. It may be replied, that the fact here stated is 
incontrovertible, and it is surely one of the strongest evidences, 
(perhaps the strongest evidence) of the truth of Hume's rea- 
soning. 

Experience is a compendious expression, for the know- 
ledge we derive from the subjects of individual consciousness, 
(whether consisting of impressions from external objects or of 
internal operations,) enlarged by a knowledge of the subjects of 
the consciousness of other individuals, communicated through 
various media, natural or conventional. 

During the early stages of human existence, the knowledge 
of every human being is confined within the sphere of his or 
her own consciousness; and as there exists, in other words as 
there is experienced, during those early stages, a co-incidence 
betwixt the thoughts and feelings of innocent and ingenuous , 

infancy and childhood, and the language in which they are ex- 
pressed, the child governed by experience, infers a correspond- 
ing co-incidence, betwixt the thoughts and feelings of those 
with whom it associates and converses, and their language. 

And as we advance in life we become more distinctly ac- 
quainted with the radical imperfection and corruption of human 
nature: we discover long before we arrive at maturity, that 
every human being is liable to be deceived, and that many are 
disposed to deceive. 

Governed by the enlarged experience, which every hour 
impresses more deeply this melancholy conviction, our faith in 
testimony becomes hesitating and qualified: credulity is con- 
verted into scepticism: we learn to distinguish betwixt fact and 
falsehood, and to appeal from fallible and fallacious testimony 
to the truth of things. 



272 Additional Notts. 

It is remarkable, that in his attempt to answer Hume's ar- 
gument on miracles, Campbell is betrayed into an error, simi- 
lar to Beattie's, in his declamation about necessary connexion. 

Beattie's reputation as a philosopher resting solely on his 
essay " on the Immutability of Truth," is already in eclipse, 
and cannot without a miracle be preserved from speedy ex- 
tinction. 

Campbell has built his philosophic fame on a foundation, at 
once more solid and extended. His great works " The Philoso- 
phy of Rhetoric," and his " Preliminary Dissertations," will pro- 
bably reach their zenith in the estimation of posterity, about the 
time that the reputation of Beattie has descended to its nadir. 

It is astonishing, if any fact of this sort could astonish; that 
Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric, (which contains more valu- 
able and original thought in a single page, than is diffused 
throughout Blair's tedious, immethodical and superficial com- 
pilation,) is scarcely known, whilst Blair's book is text and au- 
thority, in almost every celebrated college, in Britain and the 
United States. 



The following note has reference to the 3d paragraph of 
page 64 of the second of the preceding Essays. 

If the reader would perceive how strong and steady a light, 
is reflected on the principles of natural theology, by the pro- 
gress of physical science, let him compare Paley's " Natural 
Theology," with Cicero's work, De Natura Deorum. 

Not that the writer means to undervalue the work, or dis- 
parage the genius of the illustrious and all-accomplished Ro- 
man; whose eloquence, it has recently become fashionable t6 
depreciate. 

A writer, who has distinguished himself by the publication of 
letters under the designation of the " British Spy," has in the 
United States, contributed to propagate this literary heresy. 
The passage in these letters, in which Cicero is mentioned, is 
remarkable, and would have drawn down unanimous denuncia- 



Additional Notes, 273 

tion from the tribunals of criticism, had this little work been of 
sufficient consequence to deserve the animadversion, or attract 
the attention of these tribunals. 

Could any thing but the fact make it credible, that any per- 
son who had the least pretensions to literary taste, or, classical 
knowledge, would have the Gothic audacity to tell the public, 
that although " like the rest of the world, he learned at school 
to lisp, Cicero the orator," yet when he arrived at mature 
y ears, he thought him " cold! and vapid! ! and tedious! ! ! and 
uninteresting."! ! ! ! 

Had a notion of this sort, been fearfully whispered in faul- 
tering accents, by a plodding and pains-taking, but ill starr'd 
student, to his staring class-fellow, or, astonished instructor; it 
might have been pitied, forgiven and forgotten. But that any 
bearded man, liberally educated; born towards the close of the 
eighteenth century; a citizen of the only republic existing in 
the world, and devoting the maturity of life, with assiduity and 
ambition, to a profession that calls for the constant exercise of 
public speaking, should publish such a notion, (with apparent 
self-complacency,) is credible only, because it has actually oc- 
curred. 

There are certain bodily maladies and infirmities, which the 
unfortunate patient ought to disclose only to his physician, and 
even to the physician, only with the hope of obtaining succour 
or mitigation. There are misconceptions and errors too, so 
monstrous and shocking, that they ought to be whispered only 
to a confidential and intelligent friend, and to him only, with a 
view to their detection and eradication. 

This notion about Cicero, belongs to this class. 
Yet the " British Spy" tells, not his friend or his physician* 
but the American public; that Cicero's orations are " cold, and 
vapid, and tedious, and uninteresting," in his matured " judg- 
ment." 

The reader must believe, that the mind of the " Spy," has 
been arrested at the " lisping" stage of human existence; or that, 
he must have published this blasphemy about Cicero, in his 
second childhood. 



274 Additional Notes. 

" It must be so." The language he uses, is characterised 
by the tedious and stupifying tautology, peculiar to the dialect 
of dotage. 

These letters appear to have been written, with a view to 
promote the diffusion of knowledge, and to excite a taste for 
liberal literature, in his native state. Strange inconsistency! 
Excite a raste for literature, by disparaging one of the brightest 
ornaments, (perhaps the brightest ornament,) of literature, that 
ever lived! Lived! vivit, non vixit! he lives, and will continue 
to live, in the reverence and admiration of the most enlightened 
votaries of science, literature, eloquence and patriotism, till 
" time shall be no more." 

It is, as if the " Spy" had attempted to exalt female excel- 
lence, by questioning the chastity of Lucretia; or disparaging 
the accomplishments of the daughter of Scipio and the mother 
of the Gracchi. 

One or two of these letters are written with unusual viva- 
city and elegance, but had their author composed ten thousand 
such letters, and had each of the myriad, been ten thousand 
times as remarkable for vivacity and elegance; the scale that 
contained his merits, (if counterpoised by the damnatory weight 
of this blasphemy about Cicero,) would still " fly up and kick 
the beam." 

There is but one mode of expiating the offence he has 
committed: of repairing the injury he has done to the cause of 
literature, in his native state. 

Could he be persuaded to submit to this expiation, his con- 
trition would be sincere, his apology prompt and ample, and his 
recantation emphatic, and explicit. Nor is this mode of expia- 
tion painful: It consists merely, in reading and studying the ora- 
tions of Cicero, till he learns to admire his eloquence; till he 
feels the blush of shame mounting into his cheek, and it is be- 
held mantling there, with mingled emotions of sorrow and admi- 
ration, " delight and despair." 

Could he be persuaded to make the experiment, he would 
prob bly find this piacular appropriation of his leisure, far more 
delightful, than the hours which he spent in writing his letters. 



Additional Notes, 275 

But if he cannot be persuaded to make it, the writer presumes 
to express a hope that, from respect for the Magna virum Ma- 
ter; he will, announce himself as a Gothic, Turkish, Tartar, 
Cossac, Indian, any thing, but 

A British Spy. 

The author of the letters under the title of the " British 
Spy," has since published another little work, under the title of 
the Old Bachelor. The title which he has last selected is ap- 
propriate and ominous; assuredly he will never win nor wed 
one of the lovely and inspiring nine, till he expiates the injus- 
tice he has done, or rather the insult he has offered, to the mt- 
mory of Cicero. 

Till he expiates this insult they will never incline a propiti- 
ous ear to his invocations, never! possibly however, he may 
find consolation in recollecting, with a happily-disposed and 
self-complacent gentleman in the Rolliad, that " without their 
aid, he had written full many a line." 



The following note ought to have been inserted at the bot- 
tom of page 207, essay third. 

Having quoted a considerable part of Gray's " Ode to 
Spring," it would, in the writer's estimation, be injustice to 
the fame of its immortal author, to pass in silence the strictures 
of S. Johnson, on this exquisite effusion of poetical inspiration. 

In the " Ode to Spring," S. Johnson faintly recognises 
" something poetical, both in the language and the thought;" 
but adds, " the language is too luxuriant, and the thoughts have 
nothing new: The morality is natural, but stale; the conclusion 
is pretty." 

These observations are delivered in a strain somewhat too 
laconic and oracular to satisfy the intelligent reader. It behoves 
the philosophical critic, to illustrate the nature of the excellence 



276 Additional Motes, 

he applauds, or the blemishes he condemns: It is only by coup- 
ling- analysis and reasoning, with praise and censure, that the 
judgments of criticism differ from the opinions of the crowd. 

Luxuriancy of diction, may be naturally expected, and must 
be one of the most striking attractions, in an ode to Spring, and 
doctor Johnson has not shown in what instance, the luxuriance 
of language in this ode, is excessive. 

That the " morality is stale," is a charge scarcely intelligi- 
ble: Even in colloquial language, the phrase, " stale morality," 
would be objectionable, and it cannot surely be reconciled with 
the precision that ought to characterise the style of philosophi- 
cal criticism. 

Stale, in its proper and metaphorical sense, implies that a 
salutary or agreeable quality has been impaired in its influence 
by preservation or time. But morality possesses an essential 
identity, an immutable value, an undecaying freshness and 
beauty. The expressions aged angel, or dark sun-beam, gray 
eternity, decrepid immortality, would not convey ideas more in- 
congruous than " stale morality." 

Shakspeare " spurning;" spurning with what? it must be 
with non-existence, non-entity! in other words, with nothing; 
" the bounded reign of existence," with old time vainly " pant- 
ing and toiling to overtake him," do not present a more incon- 
gruous jumble. 

The genius of Shakspeare was assuredly mighty, and even 
matchless; but he might have been safely defied to give " a local 
habitation," or even an intelligible name, to so unpoetical and 
unairy a " nothing," as we have here. Time vainly panting and 
toiling to overtake a being, who lived and moved and had his 
being, in time! 

Here is a riddle that would have struck CEdipus dumb; a 
labyrinth in which even Ariadne would have been bewildered; a 
filament finer, and more attenuated than ever Clotho spun, 
fashioned into a net-work, " so reticulated and decussated," 
without tangible u interstices," or, visible " intersections," that 
as it is impossible to " form a consecutive series of that, which 
is in its essence collateral;" it is impossible also, to extract 
meaning from what is in its essence unintelligible. 



Additional Notes. ^17 

The author of these lines, doubtless intended to " tell" the 
reader something, and " something" too, that he intended to be 
" poetical;" but, alas! nothing " crossed his path;" and " exis- 
tence sees him spurn her bounded reign," and " panting," even 
breathless! sense, " toils after him in vain." 

Doubtless, however, there are many literary bees and 
minims, who opine, that these lines are " spotted" with " many" 
beauties, and are fraught with " honied sweets." 

But to return to the strictures. 

It is the province of poetry, not to introduce new, but to re- 
commend and impress long-established, and well-established 
principles of morality; principles co-eval with the commence- 
ment, and co-extensive with the progress of civilization; princi- 
ples co-essential with the nature and the mind of man. It is 
only in the imagery, the incidents, the sentiments, the allusions, 
and the style, employed to recommend and impress these prin- 
ciples, that poetical novelty can be expected or displayed. 

This sort of novelty we surely find, in the " Ode to Spring." 
If, when viewed in this light, doctor Johnson intended to con- 
vey the idea, that " the thoughts have nothing new," the obser- 
vation is just only, as a particular application of the melancholy 
truth, that there is " nothing new under the sun:" In this sense, 
the sun himself is old, and sunshine stale. 

The want of evidence and illustration in the opinion which 
doctor Johnson has pronounced on the Ode to Spring, is the 
more to be regretted, from the obvious difficulty of reconciling 
with the scornful severity of his censure, the reluctant and penu- 
rious praise which he has bestowed. If the language of the ode 
be too luxuriant, if the thoughts contain nothing new, and the 
" morality be stale," we are at a loss to understand, in what he 
conceived the " something poetical," which the ode is admitted 
to possess, and the prettiness of the conclusion, to consist. 

The language, the thoughts, and the morality comprise all 
that criticism can extract from any poetical composition; and 
if these essential parts are separately faulty and defective, the 
critic will display more liberality than discernment, more charity 
than consistency, who can ascribe any merit to the whole. But 



278 Additional Notes. 

as in this instance the critic is surely not chargeable with undue 
partiality to the poet, the inconsistency into which he is betray- 
ed, must, I fear have arisen from the insurmountable difficulty, 
of reconciling the applause which justice extorted, with the 
censure he was eager to pronounce. 

Amongst innumerable odes, that, like " insect youth, are" 
annually " on the wing," (if the writer mistakes not, S. Johnson 
has himself condescended to publish one of these ephemeral 
effusions,) this is perhaps the only ode, that contains a perpetual 
source, not of" hon ed," but of "nectared" sweets. The only 
ode to spring that will be forgotten only, when the spring of 
" heaven's eternal year," shall " visit the mouldering urn" of its 
author. 

Whilst perusing this ode, even amidst the decay of autumn, 
or the desolation of winter; the expressions " gathered frag- 
rance;" " rushy brink;" " gayly-gilded trim;" " busy murmur;" 
" honied spring;" revive in our bosoms emotions of " vernal 
delight and joy." 



The following note ought to have been introduced at the 
bottom of page 207 of the third essay. 

The word " belittle" if the writer mistakes not, is of Ameri- 
can origin or adoption. Although he has used it, he would not 
be understood as approving its introduction. 

In common with many individuals, whose opinions have bet- 
ter claims to deference and weight; surely he may add in com- 
mon with every well-informed and thinking man, the writer de- 
plores the propensity which has for several years manifested 
itself, to impair the vernacular energy of the English language, 
by the unauthorized use, or> illicit coinage of words, to convey 
ideas; which may be conveyed, precisely and euphoniously, by- 
words previously sanctioned by good use: as good use, is ex- 
pounded in the M Philosophy of Rhetoric," " reputable, national 
and present use." 

The right to establish a circulating medium, is admitted by- 
jurists to be one of the attributes of sovereign power. The truth 



Additional Notes. 270 

•f this principle is admissible, probably, under material limita- 
tions. But it can scarcely be doubted, that the legitimate au- 
thority to introduce new words, belongs only to those who ex- 
ercise legislative power in the republic of letters; and that even 
in their hands, the exercise of this power, is a highly delicate* 
difficult, and responsible act. 

An essay on this subject, fraught with valuable information, 
has been recently published, by John Pickering of Salem, Mas- 
sachusetts. 

This little volume, (which is worthy to be annexed as an 
Appendix to the " Philosophy of Rhetoric,") ought to be one of 
the manuals of American youth. Its attentive perusal and 
general circulation, can scarcely fail to check, if it does not 
arrest, the progress of a species of wanton and most pestilent 
innovation, to which a swarm of buzzing, vexatious, and ego- 
tistical pedants and sciolists, have given temporary vogue. 

A work is now in the press, from the pen of an ingenious 
gentleman, Augustus B Woodward, judge of the Michigan 
territory; in which the author has undertaken to execute a neo- 
logical enterprise of unprecedented audacity. 

As the writer is pledged to review this work, as soon after 
it issues from the press, as he can find leisure for that purpose; 
he will reserve for that article, any additional observations 
which he may have to offer, on this interesting topic. 

The writer has, for years, cultivated a friendly occasional 
intercourse with judge Woodward, and would regret that any 
thing may occur to interrupt the friendliness of future inter- 
course; but in reviewing this work, his motto must be, an old 
adage, which, although often and proudly quoted, is seldom 
sternly and conscientiously applied in practice. 

Amicus Plato, &c. 



SUPPLEMENTARY NARRATIVE. 



Nitor in adversum, 
JYbn aliter, quam qui ad verso vix flumine lembum 
Remigiis subigit, brachia si forte remisit, 
Atque ilium in prxceps prono rapit alveus amni. 

To preface this narrative by an apology, would be prepos- 
terous; for if its publication stands in need of an apology, it had 
better be omitted. 

Before the reader can judge, whether the publication of this 
narrative be proper or improper, may or may not require an 
apology; he ought to read it. The narrator however will 
frankly premise, that, to the reader who after having perused it 
may think an apology for its publication necessary; he fears, 
that he has none to offer, which would be satisfactory. 

The period that elapsed, between the nineteenth and the 
thirty-fourth year of the narrator's life, was devoted with assi- 
duity and enthusiasm, to the instruction of youth, in the state of 
Virginia. 

In the course of study pursued by his pupils, no inconsi- 
derable portion of their attention was devoted, to exercises 
in elocution, composition and rhetoric. From the earliest re- 
collected period of his life; the narrator had felt, and cherished, 
not a predilection merely, but a passion, for the cultivation of 
oratory. Incidental circumstances combined to nourish and in- 
flame this' passion. 

He imparted instruction principally through the medium of 
colloquial lectures and explanations, and in forming the minds 
and correcting the errors of his pupils; he relied principally or 
solely, on his ability to awaken the curiosity and interest the 
affections, of ingenuous youth. 

He early imbibed and steadily indulged the pleasing hope, 
(which personal experience gradually ripened into assured 



ii Supplementary Narrative* 

conviction,) that if knowledge be communicated to the unfold- 
ing mind, in the lustre and attraction of its own prevailing evi- 
dence; it will charm every sensibility of the heart, whilst it ex- 
pands every faculty of the mind, and emulate the pleasures of 
sense as much in vivacity and allurement, as it surpasses them 
in dignity, purity, and permanence. 

This mode of instruction, necessarily called for the constant 
exercise of oratory, and upon the oratorical skill of the instructor, 
its efficiency-, essentially depends. 

In the cultivation and exercise of this noble art, and in direct- 
ing the attention of his pupils to its cultivation and exercise; 
he was influenced by another, and a still more cogent motive. 

The American republic, presents an ampler and grander 
theatre for the exercise of oratory, than any civilized commu- 
nity, that has existed since the glorious days of Greece and 
Rome: Ampler and grander far! than those celebrated states 
presented, even in their most glorious days. 

In the American republic, all the causes, essential to the 
successful cultivation of oratory, and to carry it to all the per- 
fection it is capable of attaining; combine their influence. 

At the most enlightened sera in the annals of history, a civi- 
lized community, (whose members derive their descent from 
the freest and most intelligent nations of the old world,) has in 
the fairest part of a hemisphere recently discovered; commenc- 
ed its career, under the auspices of a government, permanently 
and essentially popular. 

In such a community, oratory spontaneously revives, and 
necessarily advances towards perfection; in proportion as the 
gradual multiplication, and judicious location and management 
of academical and literary institutions, increase the stock of 
national intelligence, liberalise public sentiment and enlighten 
public opinion: as schools and colleges, supply the incen- 
tives and instruction best adapted, to inflame the emulation and 
aid the exertions of aspiring youth, in the attainment of orato- 
rical skill. 

Whilst thus employed in Virginia, he was accustomed to 
hold semi-annual academical examinations and exhibitions; at 



Supplementary Narrative. iii 

which, his pupils exhibited specimens of their proficiency 
and skill in composition and elocution; in the presence of their 
parents and guardians, and intelligent persons of both sexes 
in the vicinity of his academy, who felt an inclination and 
found it convenient to attend. 

The narrator uniformly availed himself of the occasions, 
which these opportunities presented, to prepare and deliver a 
discourse, for the purpose of illustrating the methods and ob- 
jects of the course of instruction which he had adopted; or 
on some interesting topic, connected with the duties of an 
instructor. 

The impression which these discourses, and the manner in 
which they were delivered, seemed to leave on the minds of 
his intelligent auditors; encouraged the narrator, to conceiv# 
and attempt the execution of a design somewhat novel. 

He proposed to deliver a weekly discourse, on some inter- 
esting subject, (literary or ethical,) in the presence of intelligent 
persons of both sexes, residing within a convenient distance 
from his academy. 

In forming this design, the idea of pecuniary emolument, 
did not even mingle with his motives. 

He was influenced wholly by a love of intellectual distinction, 
a predilection for the exercise of oratory, and an enthusiastic 
desire to diffuse a taste for literature; which have long been the 
idols of his heart, and his " ruling" passions. 

In his first attempt to execute this design, no patronage 
was solicited: The attendance of his auditors was gratuitous 
and spontaneous. 

Self-love in every shape it assumes, is quick to perceive, 
and eager to pursue, its peculiar gratification. 

The attention with which his auditors listened to these dis- 
courses, and the manner in which they testified their approba- 
tion; not only excited but nourished a hope, (which gradually 
gained strength,) that he was endowed by nature, or, had derived 
from education, uncommon skill in a certain species of oratory. 

On the delight which this hope imparted; on the restless 
and fitful yet inspiring enthusiasm it enkindled; on the fondness 



iv Supplementary Narrative, 

with which he hugged it to his " heart of hearts;" he forbears 
to expatiate. 

During the last years of that period of his life, to which he 
now adverts, the hurried and unquiet intervals of midnight 
leisure, which he could abstract from the disheartening yet 
often " delightful task," of teaching " the young idea how to 
shoot;" were assiduously dedicated to the composition of these 
discourses. 

When however the reader is apprised, that he had under 
his care, from forty to fifty pupils; at every stage of life be- 
tween childhood and manhood, and engaged consequently in the 
study of all the elementary, and many of the higher depart- 
ments, of literature and science; that he communicated know- 
ledge, principally through the medium of oral lectures and 
explanations, and relied solely on the efficacy of expostulation, 
remonstrance and admonition, in the conservation of academic 
order; in awakening the curiosity, correcting the errors, and 
controlling the conduct of his pupils, both in and out of school; 
it will be readily conceived, that much of his scanty and preca- 
rious leisure, must have been abstracted from the time, which, 
ought to have been devoted to exercise and repose. 

But it is of the essence of all lofty and sustained enthusi- 
asm, to evolve the intellectual energy, and create the solitary 
leisure, which are necessary to execute its designs. 

Its votaries " reign and revel," in a world of their own: The 
variety of their emotions seems to multiply and diversify their 
consciousness; to call forth and concentrate, all the latent energy 
of their minds. 

Time is, (although matter is not,) infinitely divisible, or more 
properly, infinitely expansible: In the rapid succession and end- 
less diversity of ideas, which such enthusiasm conjures up, and 
in the exquisite emotions they awaken; hours became months, 
and months seem lengthened into years. 

His situation, during that portion of the period of his life t© 
which he now adverts, was singularly auspicious, to the success 
of his exertions as an instructor of youth, and to the nurture 
and gratification of his passion for oratory. 



Supplementary Narrative. v 

The individuals of both sexes, in the vicinity of his academy, 
most distinguished for their accomplishments, respectability 
and opulence; were still more distinguished for their taste, in- 
telligence, liberality and public spirit. 

It would be difficult, the narrator conjectures, (and he has 
traversed the United States,) to find in the neighbourhood of 
any rural village, or even in the vicinity of any of the most 
populous and flourishing cities, within their ample boundaries; 
a greater number of accomplished, amiable and respectable 
persons of both sexes, than are to be found in the vicinity of 
Milton, Albemarle county, in the state of Virginia.* 

He looks back to this period of his life, as to a verdant and 
sunny spot, on which " imagination most delights to bask;" 
where sensibility most fondly lingers, and which he would most 
readily consent, "to live over again." 

During this period, he had under his care, young persons, 
from almost every part of Virginia, and never, (surely never!) 
was any instructor blessed with pupils, more capable of intel- 
lectual improvement, (there were a few, and but a few melan- 
choly exceptions,) or more tractable to affectionate admonition. 

Soon after his establishment in Milton, he was invited, (in a 
manner the most delicate and acceptable,) by the most respect- 
able citizens in its vicinity, to deliver a weekly discourse on any 
interesting subject, which he might think proper to select. 

This invitation was gladly and gratefully accepted. The 
gentlemen who took the lead on this occasion, provided a suita- 
ble room for the delivery of his discourses, and insisted that he 
should receive a pecuniary compensation. 



* In the vicinity of Milton in Virginia, the narrator was honoured and 
made happy, by having access to the society and friendship of a truly accom- 
plished woman: A modern Cornelia, who like her prototype and precursor, 
if asked to show her ornaments, could point, and say, (say in the language of 
Cornelia,) hsec mea ornamental A. matron, who like Cornelia, will not, the nar- 
rator trusts, be more distinguished as the daughter of Scipio, and the wife of a 
man not less accomplished than Scipio, than as the mother of sons and of a 
son-in-law, who will, he is sure they -will; aspire to emulate the excellence, 
which they cannot but admire, revere and love. 



vi Supplementary Narrative. 

A subscription was accordingly opened, to which most of 
the respectable persons in Milton, or, in its vicinity, annexed 
their names: Each of the subscribers agreeing to pay a specific 
sum; one half of which was paid at the time of subscription. 

The narrator has forgotten the amount of this subscription, 
(he would be ashamed to recollect with precision, so relatively 
frivolous a circumstance,) but the motive by which the subscri- 
bers were influenced, he can never forget, whilst he remembers 
any thing. 

Soon after, he relinquished the professional instruction of 
youth, and devoted his leisure exclusively to the cultivation and 
exercise of oratory: he has since delivered orations in the prin- 
cipal cities of the United States, and in the presence of all the 
intelligence, taste, beauty and fashion, in these states; but he 
can with perfect sincerity say, that he has never risen to ad- 
dress the most brilliant and crowded audience, with an enthu- 
siasm so pure, so lofty, and so heartfelt, as he was wont to feel, 
when at the close of a week of scholastic drudgery, he rose to 
address his small but select audience, in the vicinity of Milton. 

Here, the narrator hopes, it will not be improper to record 
an incident, which in no considerable degree contributed to sus- 
tain this tone of feeling. 

It made a part of the arrangement for the delivery of these 
discourses, that occasional visitors should be supplied with 
tickets of admission. 

Monticello, the seat of Mr. Jefferson, (then president of the 
United States,) is situated within a mile or two, of Charlottes- 
ville, to which the narrator paid a weekly visit, for the purpose 
of delivering these discourses. 

Having paid a periodical visit to the city of Washington, at 
the time when this arrangement was made; Mr. Jefferson had 
no opportunity of annexing his name to the list of subscribers. 

The first discourse, which the narrator delivered after Mr. 
Jefferson's return to Monticello, was honoured by the presence 
of the chief magistrate of the United States, and of all the 
visitors, then at Monticello. 



Supplementary Narrative, vii 

Regarding himself and his guests, as occasional auditors; 
Mr. Jefferson wished to procure tickets of admission. The 
person by whom they were furnished, was directed to say; that 
the narrator felt himself highly honoured by his presence, and 
would feel the honour enhanced, if Mr. Jefferson would dis- 
pense with tickets, for himself and his guests. 

With the intimation of this wish Mr. Jefferson had the good- 
ness, (without the hesitation of a moment) to comply. 

Whilst the narrator was entering his school- room, on the 
succeeding day, he observed a box in the entry, on which his 
name was labelled; and was informed by one of his pupils, 
that it had been left there by a servant from Monticello, with 
a letter. 

The letter, (in a manner the most polite and gratifying,) 
intimated Mr. Jefferson's wish, that the narrator would accept 
the contents of the box. 

The box, contained a complete and elegant edition in quarto, 
of the works of Cicero! 

The flattering attention and regular attendance of his small 
but select audience in the vicinity of Milton, conspired with 
other causes, tc give a new direction to the enthusiasm with 
which he had originally embraced, and for twelve years pursued, 
the instruction of youth. 

There is a disheartening and monotonous drudgery, essen- 
tially connected with the business of practical education, in all 
its stages and departments; which as the instructor advances in 
life, silently but fatally saps his constitution, benumbs his facul- 
ties, and converts the fuel of enthusiasm, into the cold ashes of 
apathy, or into the lurid smoke of life -loathing melancholy. // 

Such at least was its effect, on the health, sensibility and 
enthusiasm, of the narrator. 

A short and simple detail of his daily labours, during his 
residence in Milton; will satisfy the reader that such must have 
been the effect of the drudgery which he underwent, on the 
health, spirits and mental energy of any conscious being; whose 
frame was not composed of adamant or iron. 

He rose about seven o'clock in the morning, and was occu- 



//, 



viii Supplementary Narrative. 

pied till breakfast, in hearing the junior classes recite lessons in 
geography, grammar, geometry, Sec. 

Immediately after breakfast, his pupils re-assembled; and 
after delivering to the senior class, a lecture on ethics, rhetoric, 
natural philosophy, or political economy; he was occupied in 
hearing the junior classes translate passages from the Greek 
and Latin classics. 

During the interval betwixt breakfast and dinner; his voice, 
temper, faculties and feelings, were exercised intensely and 
often painfully, and without intermission. 

The classes were successively dismissed; but the narrator 
was usually summoned to dinner, whilst he was engaged in the 
business of his school. 

Immediately after dinner, the classes re-assembled, and pur- 
sued their respective studies till sunset. 

After tea, a certain number of his pupils again assembled, 
and were exercised for an hour or two, in recitation and elo- 
cution. 

From the school-room, he almost invariably passed di- 
rectly to his chamber, where he spent four or five hours, in ex- 
amining and comparing the speculations of the deepest think- 
ers, on the most important subjects, and in endeavouring, (to 
use a colloquial phrase, but big with import,) " to think for 
himself." 

The narrator, has not only tasted, young reader! but has 
drank and devoured, (even to repletion and ebriety,) all the va- 
rieties and modifications of pleasurable sensation; and he assures 
you, on the evidence of personal experience, that the pleasure 
of thinking on important subjects, with a view to communicate 
your thoughts to unfolding minds, is, of all pleasures, the most 
exquisite, in act, retrospect and anticipation. 

On Saturday afternoon he composed, and, during the night, 
committed to memory, the weekly discourse; which he deli- 
vered on Sunday forenoon, in Charlottesville. 

He does not recollect, in delivering these discourses, ever 
to have felt the necessity of recurring to notes. 

An enthusiastic attachment to the profession, which he had 



Supplementary Narrative. ix 

embraced; a habitual, heart-felt and elevating consciousness of 
its dignity and usefulness; a constitution invigorated by the pre- 
cious privations and mind-awakening abstinence of a Scotch 
education, combined with the excessive use of opium, (which 
proved, in the sequel, a most treacherous auxiliary), enabled 
him to sustain and survive, this unremitted and overwhelming 
drudgery. 

He escaped insanity and suicide: He survived — But, haeret 
lateri lethalis arundo — Health, equanimity, and steady intellec- 
tual energy, were irretrievably sacrificed. 

He cannot, " from the dregs of life, 

" Hope to receive, 
" What the first sprightly running could not give," 

And cares not how soon the curtain drops. But the experi- 
ence which is useless to him, may be useful to others. 

As his disgust for scholastic drudgery, (the drudgery of 
" handling again, and again," and again, the rudiments; of com- 
bining and re-combining the elements of literature,) increased; 
his passion for the cultivation and exhibition of oratory, gained 
strength. 

It was at this cheerless and dreary stage in the journey of 
life, when the face of nature seemed an universal blank, when 
life had ceased to charm and death to terrify; that the idea of 
delivering orations from the Rostrum, in the principal cities of 
the United States, suddenly crossed his imagination. 

"So breaks on the traveller faint and astray 
The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn!'* 

Vainly indeed would he attempt to paint, (in the liveliest 
and most brilliant colours which language can supply,) the de- 
lightful prospects that opened, (burst! let him rather say,) on 
the view of sanguine enthusiasm and generous ambition. 

He seemed to anticipate in a moment, and by a prophetic 
glance, all the difficulties to be surmounted; all the good to be 
done, all the trophies to be won, in the successful execution of 
so novel and so noble an enterprise. 

o o 



x Supplementary Narrative. 

So firmly did this idea fasten itself on his imagination, so 
entirely did it. occupy his attention, so intensely did it rouse the 
latent, or more properly, revive the extinguished sensibilities 
of his soul; that he experienced for several days a kind of mor- 
bid reverie, (accompanied by slight fever,) which during two 
nights successively, chased repose from his pillow, and prevent- 
ed him from closing, or wishing to close his eyes. 

During the latter part of the succeeding night, he sunk 
(from the exhaustion produced by intense excitement,) into a 
sleep so profound and protracted, that he remembers to have 
been roused by a faithful and affectionate old negro man, (Dio- 
genes could dispense more readily with the services of Menas,) 
who waited on him, and apprehending from the death-like still- 
ness of his sleep and the lateness of the hour, that he was dead, 
or, had fainted, began to halloo in his ear, and shake him 
violently. 

It may seem, and it may be odd, yet the narrator can state 
with truth; that from the moment when this idea first crossed 
his imagination, he felt an assurance not only of ultimate, but 
of speedy and splendid success. 

So lively was this assurance, that although he mentioned 
his design to several of his friends, and listened without sur- 
prise or impatience, to their exclamations of incredulity and 
astonishment, and even read in their faces a suspicion, that his 
mind was deranged, he consulted no one.* 



* There was one, and but one, exception: With the late Doctor 
Walter Jones, of Virginia, the narrator had the happiness and honour 
to become acquainted, immediately after his emigration from his native 
country, Scotland, to that state. This eminent person (with whom he 
had maintained, from the first hour of their acquaintance, an uninter- 
rupted friendship, and a regular epistolary correspondence, till his 
death,) when apprised of his oratorical enterprise, approved of it, pre- 
dicted its success, and encouraged the narrator to persevere. 

During the whole progress of his excursion, he received letters 
from this beloved and venerated friend, containing the most affection- 
ate and judicious counsel. Alas, he can receive no more. Alas, he 



Supplementary Narrative* xi 

His resolution was irrevocably fixed, and he cared not what 
others, (even those whose intelligence he most respected, and 
in whose friendship he most confided,) thought of its practicabi- 
lity, dignity and usefulness. 

The amiable and intelligent editor of the Richmond En- 
quirer, expatiated for an hour, (with all the earnestness of con- 



can never have the pleasure to thank him, in person, for a friendship, 
as disinterested and noble, as was ever manifested; for services as solid 
and precious as were ever rendered, by one human being to another. 

He was fondly feasting- the best feeling's of his heart, with the anti- 
cipation of revisiting- once more his aged and faithful friend; when a 
gazette, announcing his sudden death, fell accidentally into his hands. 

It may be obtrusive, it may be improper, in a narrative of this sort; 
to give vent to feelings, with which the narrator can expect no lively 
sympathy, from a great majority of his readers. 

But, when the coldest and most fastidious reader is apprised, that 
these feelings are awakened by the recent and premature death of a 
man; who, as a patriot, as a gentleman, as a scholar, as a friend; as a 
friend to literature, liberality and liberty, was confessedly pre-eminent: 
That he was the delight and luminary of every social circle, which he 
honoured with his presence: That no one ever conversed with him, or 
listened to his conversation, for half an hour, who could not recollect, 
and could never forget, whilst he remembered any thing; some novelty 
of thought or expression, which fell from his lips, at least equal, in so- 
lidity and brilliancy, to any thing, on the same subject, which he 
had ever, before heard or read: that he was a master of every sort 
of colloquial eloquence and would have been admired, even in 
the company of Swift, Arbuthnot and Bolingbroke: that he was at 
once the most liberal and indulgent friend, and the most judicious ad- 
viser, of youth, whom the narrator has ever known: He will forgive, 
if he does not approve, this involuntary tribute to the memory of his 
benefactor, by a man, who feels and knows, that he was so deeply in- 
debted to his friendship, and has no other mode of indulging and reliev- 
ing his feelings, but by vain expressions of grief, gratitude, reverence 
and love. 

The tears mingle with his ink; he dips his pen in the very blood 
that warms his heart, whilst he calls to mind, the virtues, the accom- 
plishments, the kindness, the services, of a friend and benefactor, whom 



xii Supplementary Narrative, 

viction, and with all the fervour and fidelity of friendship,) on 
the ineligibility ot the project, admitting it to be practicable, 
and on its impracticability, admitting it to be eligible. 

He listened to the affectionate and energetic expostulations 
of his friend, with thankfulness and attention, and without at- 
tempting to answer what he had urged, contented himself by 
saying: — 

" The event must verify or disappoint your anticipations; 
for I am resolved to prosecute this design in the face and in the 
teeth of any difficulties or perils, which I can summon courage 
to confront, or collect fortitude to endure." 

When however he came to dismiss his pupils and shut the 
door of his school-room; to abandon abruptly and probably for 
ever a profession, which he had embraced so early and pursued 
so long; to which he had devoted the flower of his youth and 
some portion of the maturity of life; a profession which many 
peculiar circumstances, (to which he forbears to advert) com- 
bined to endear; the conflict which he experienced was acutely 
painful. 

But the struggle was transient: He was impatient to enter 
upon the execution of the enterprise he had projected, and in 
the beginning of the year 1809, after a short parting address to 
his pupils, he did shut the door of his school-room, and the 
morning after took a seat in the stage to Staunton, for the pur- 
pose of traversing the United States in the character of a de- 
claimer on the Rostrum. 

In journeying to the larger cities, he passed successively 
through the intervening towns and rural villages, spent a week 
or two, and delivered orations, in each. 



he can never, never meet, again; " whose spirit is fled up to the stars 
from whence it came, and whose warm heart, with all its generous and 
open vessels, is compressed into a clod of the valley." 

To the feeling's and in the estimation of the narrator, and to the 
feeling's and in the estimation of all who knew him, as the narrator 
knew him; the death of this admirable man made a desert, for leagues 
around his grave. 



Supplementary Narrative. xiii 

Small as these towns and villages are, he could scarcely, (in 
the commencement of his excursion,) have delivered his ora- 
tions, in a situation and under circumstances, more auspicious 
to ultimate success: to the cultivation and exercise of the 
personal energy, self-possession and self-command, which were 
indispensable to ultimate and permanent success; in any em- 
phatic sense of that very equivocal word. 

In addressing an audience never exceeding twenty or thirty 
persons in number; accidentally and spontaneously assembled, in 
taverns, ball-rooms and court-houses; where he was necessarily 
exposed to irritating, vexatious and mortifying interruption, he 
could be stimulated to energetic exertion on the Rostrum, 
solelyy by an elevating consciousness of the novelty, grandeur 
and prospective usefulness of the enterprise which he had un- 
dertaken; by an anticipation of success on theatres more brilliant 
and conspicuous, and by an assured conviction, that from every 
exhibition on the Rostrum, under circumstances so adverse and 
unpropitious, he was exercising, invigorating and maturing, 
the moral energy, and acquiring additional skill in the use of 
the rhetorical weapons, (ponderous as well as missile,) without 
the prompt and skilful use of which, the glorious and benefi- 
cent execution of the project he had conceived, would have 
been, not the Quixotism of an enthusiastic, but the Chimera of 
an insane mind. 

Here it will not be useless or improper to state a fact, which 
will greatly surprise such of his transatlantic readers, as have 
formed their ideas of the state of society, in the only Republic 
that ever did, or ever could exist on the face of the earth, 
(the most permanent and magnificent monument of the great- 
ness of the " Magna Virum Mater,") from the perusal of the 
fact-inverting fictions of the stupid, malignant and venal for- 
eigners, who after traversing the United States with the rapidi- 
ty of a running footman, have abused the Press, injured one 
community and insulted another, by the eructation of spleen and 
the ebullition of bile: a non " splendida" sed atra " bilis." 

In the smallest and most obscure villages of Virginia, the 
narrator not only found a Press, circulating articles of foreign 



xiv Supplementary Narrative, 

and domestic intelligence, through the medium of a paper ea- 
gerly read and widely circulated, and collections of books for 
sale not badly selected;* but in the audiences thus casually 
assembled, he never failed to address persons of both sexes, 
capable of detecting what was faulty, and of enjoying whatever 
was valuable or attractive in exhibitions; which could be ap- 
preciated only by intelligence and taste. 

To enable the intelligent reader to understand the nature and 
appreciate the value of the discipline, which the narrator under- 
went, he will here state one of the many incidents of a similar 
kind, that occurred. 

The day after his arrival in Fredericktown, in the state of 
Maryland; he intimated through the medium of a printed hand- 
bill, (he did not at that time think or rather feeL that his exhi- 
bitions were of sufficient consequence in public estimation, to 
entitle him to use a card for that purpose.) his intention to de- 
liver, on the succeeding evening, one of his orations, in the 
largest room of the Hotel, in which he lodged. 

On entering this room, (a few minutes after the appointed 
time,) he found only four gentlemen, whose appearance and de- 
portment bespoke urbanity and intelligence. 

The narrator stepped upon what he called his Rostrum, (a 
small platform, covered with a carpet and elevated about two 
feet above the floor,) and was beginning to deliver the discourse 



* It is with profound, and, he may sincerely say, with patriotic re- 
gret, that he cannot add, that he found also, liberally endowed and 
wisely conducted classical schools, and scientific academies, schools 
and colleges. But these noble and beneficent institutions will, assur- 
edly and speedily spring- up: the}' are already springing up, under the 
genial influence of an emulous and piacular patronage. The invalua- 
ble academical institution (and if he had published a thousand vapid vo- 
lumes, and a thousand times as vapid, as the volume he has pub- 
lished, this institution would protect him from ignominious oblivion,) 
which Mr. Taylor, of Caroline county, has established; is the precur- 
sor, and the model, to an hundred other institutions, of the same kind. 

Twenty years hence, these noble institutions will attract and fix, 
the delighted eye of intelligent strangers, who travel through Virginia. 



Supplementary Narrative. xv 

which he had announced, when one of his four auditors rose 
from his seat and very politely said, 

" You do not, sir, I hope, think of delivering your discourse 
in the presence of four persons: The handbill intimating your 
intention, has not been circulated through the town: if you will 
postpone your exhibition till to morrow evening, you will cer- 
tainly have many more auditors." 

The narrator, after thanking the stranger for his polite 
suggeslion, replied, " that he was a stranger in Frederick- 
town: That his exhibition was of a nature somewhat novel: 
that he had no sort of ground to expect in the first instance a 
numerous audience: that he could draw and wished to draw at- 
tention, solely by means of the favourable impression, which the 
discourse he had announced, and the manner, in which it was 
delivered, might leave on his mind and on the minds of the 
other gentlemen who by visiting the room, manifested a willing- 
ness to become his auditors; if at the close of his exhibition, he 
should be fortunate enough to leave a favourable impression on 
their minds." 

The gentleman bowed and resumed his seat, and the narrator 
proceeded to deliver an oration on Duelling, with as much ear- 
nestness and energy, although he acknowledges with far less 
self-complacency, than he afterwards felt, in delivering the same 
oration, in the principal cities of the United States. 

The impression, which this discourse, and the manner in 
which it was delivered, made on the minds of his four respectable 
auditors, was evidently and decidedly favourable: The gentleman, 
who proposed a postponement of the exhibition, before he left the 
room, said, (with marked sensibility and emphasis, and in a man- 
ner indicating that he expressed the sentiments of his compa- 
nions as well as his own,) " If our exertions, sir, can fill your room 
to-morrow evening, it shall not be. full merely, it shall overflow." 
The narrator, recollects this evidence of extorted and une- 
quivocal approbation, with livelier sensibility, than he? feels in 
recollecting the according plaudits of crowded, intelligent and 
fashionable audiences, in the principal cities of the United States, 
with which the same oration was afterwards honoured. 



xvi Supplementary Narrative, 

On the succeeding evening in Fredericktown, his room was 
crowded. 

From Fredericktown, the narrator proceeded to the city of 
Washington, and finding the President at the seat of govern- 
ment; had the honour of waiting on him, and took occasion in 
the course of a short conversation, to explain the object of the 
literary enterprise which he had undertaken. 

Mr. Jefferson seemed to think favourably of the utility of the 
design, but in adverting f n its probable success, was benevolent- 
ly disposed rather to check, than to foster an enthusiasm, which 
he readily perceived to be over-sanguine. 

He had however the goodness to transmit to the narrator, 
(previous to his departure from the city of Washington,) a letter 
of introduction and recommendation to a distinguished preach- 
er in Baltimore: an extract, from this letter was afterwards pub- 
lished in one of the Baltimore Gazettes, and materially contri- 
buted to the success of his exhibitions on the Rostrum, during 
his first visit to that city. 

Mr. Jefferson's conduct in this instance, (as in many other 
instances,) was a signal evidence, not only of his philanthropic 
zeal, in encouraging any effort, or enterprise, that promised to 
be in any degree useful to society; but of the republican boldness 
with which that zeal has been manifested. 

In expressing a favourable opinion of the narrator's ability to 
deliver specimens of oratory from the Rostrum; at so early and 
critical a stage in the prosecution of a design, the utility of 
which was, in the estimation of many intelligent persons, pro- 
blematical, and in which the prospect of success was generally 
regarded as chimerical; Mr. Jefferson voluntarily assumed a 
responsibility, which a timid, selfish, or illiberal mind, would 
have cautiously evaded: from which, such a mind would have 
instinctively recoiled. 

Previous to his first visit to Baltimore, the narrator felt in 
no ordinary degree solicitous, to arrange with providence and 
deliberation, the plan of his future operations: to leave as 
little as possible, to the influence of casualty, of incidental im- 
pression, of momentary, or morbid feeling, and of inconsiderate 



Supplementary Narrative. xvii 

counsel, in executing so new, delicate, and difficult an experi- 
ment. 

Mature reflection suggested five cardinal rules for the go- 
vernment of his conduct; to which in the prosecution of his de- 
sign he resolved to adhere, as inviolably, as the infirmities of his 
nature and habits would permit. 

He deemed it essential in the first place, to the successful 
execution of the enterprise he had undertaken, to disconnect it 
as perfectly as possible, from political patronage and subser- 
viency. Under a government alike popular in its spirit and in 
its form, there is an almost incontrollable tendency, to convert 
every literary institution or enterprise; every intellectual pur- 
suit or effort, into a political engine. Party-spirit is a part of 
the price that must be paid for the inestimable blessings of re- 
publican liberty: But party-spirit inevitably degenerates into 
faction, and the touch, the breath, the very glance! of faction, is 
contamination, disease and death, to whatever is liberal, patrio- 
tic, or beneficent. 

Is there, under the auspices of a republican government, no 
theatre on which eloquence can wield her truth-tempered 
weapons; on which philosophy can promulge, illustrate, and in- 
culcate her most salutary and instructive lessons; on which ge- 
nius can bask and brighten in the blaze of science; on which an 
independent spirit can reign, and revel, and riot, in the plenitude 
of moral and intellectual energy, untrammelled by the fetters, 
uncontaminated by the hoof, or fang of Faction? 

If there is not; the blessings of republican liberty ought to 
be inestimable, for the price at which they are purchased, ex- 
ceeds calculation. 

In regarding the " Rostrum," as a theatre of this sort, the 
narrator may have been misled by sanguine enthusiasm, but 
he is not yet convinced that he was thus misled. 

Secondly, he determined, in selecting the subjects of his 
orations, to avoid all topics that excite the proverbially inexpiable 
" odium theologicum;" the polemical rancour of religious con- 
troversy. 

p p 



xviii Supplementary Narraiivt. 

The pulpitis the proper and appointed place for the exposi- 
tion and inculcation of religious doctrines, and a free press, is the 
appropriate organ for such controversies and discussions. The 
illustration of such subjects demands a temper and tone ol 
feeling, far too serious and solemn, and are of a nature infinitely 
too momentous, to fall within the sphere of a species of oratory, 
of which liberal amusement is one of the primary objects. 

Thirdly y he determined to select as the subjects of his decla- 
mations on the Rostrum, such as seemed best fitted to interest 
intelligent persons of all classes and denominations; such more 
especially, as promised to attract the attention of ladies of intel- 
ligence and taste. 

It scarcely required the uniform observation and experience 
of six years to convince him, how essential the countenance, 
presence, and favourable sentiments of ladies of intelligence 
and taste are, to give dignity and attraction to the rostrum; to 
animate the attention of his auditors, and the exertions of the 
orator; to impart efficacy to every effort that is intended, or has 
a tendency, to " raise the genius and to mend the heart." 

This is not the language of unmeaning compliment, of idle 
or interested adulation. Language of this sort, is perhaps, the 
most insignificant part of a dialect, incident only to the babyhood 
of intellect. 

Far from indicating with simplicity, with sincerity, with 
polished elegance, the mingled and ineffable sentiments with 
which every susceptible and cultivated mind regards female 
loveliness and excellence; such language^ expresses only the 
barbarous idolatry of factitious rank, of titled opulence, of feu- 
dal fashion. 

Contemptible at all times, such language were peculiarly 
degrading and offensive, on an occasion like the present. The 
narrator simply states a fact, which he is proud and happy to 
record; the truth of which every gentleman who has visited his 
lecture-room will verify: he simply, and imo corde expresses a 
sentiment of grateful and respectful recollection, indelible 
during life. 



Supplementary Narrative. xix 

He will venture to predict, that if the oratory of the Ros- 
trum, (by an ignoble, or mercenary subserviency to the purposes 
of faction, immorality, and fashion,) shall hereafter call down the 
matrons' indignant frown, or avert the virgins' eye with shame 
and scorn, it will sink to rise no more; and it had better rise 
no more! for thus abused and prostituted, it can rise again, 
only like a damned spirit from the regions of darkness, skilled 
to " perplex, and dash maturest counsels;" " to make the worse 
appear the better reason," and to drop " manna" secretly im- 
bued with deadly venom, from its deceitful tongue. 

Fourthly', he determined in selecting the subjects of his 
orations; in the embellishments of his rhetoric; in his costume, 
in the form and decorations of his rostrum, and in the style of 
his elocution; to conform boldly to the deliberate dictates of his 
judgment, and to yield promptly to the impulse of his filings: 
under a full persuasion, that the judgment and taste of his in- 
telligent auditors, and the censorial criticism of a free press, 
would detect, expose, and punish, any extravagance or impro- 
priety into which he might be betrayed.* 



* Here the narrator invites, and, if he may be allowed, invokes! 
the impartial and earnest attention of the reader; whilst he endeavours 
to illustrate the probable efficiency of the Rostrum prospectively, in pro- 
moting- the revival and cultivation of oratory, and in carrying it to all 
the perfection, which it is capable of attaining. The following obser- 
vations concentrate the result of much reflection, and no inconsiderable 
or narrow range of observation, (assisted by personal experience), in 
relation to this interesting subject. 

Before the intelligent reader assents or dissents to the solidity of the 
following observations; he is earnestly entreated to weigh their import 
maturely. 

As the oratory of the Rostrum can only attract general atten- 
tion, in proportion as it possesses the power of amusing or affect- 
ing a miscellaneous audience; and as, from the dignified and didactic 
nature of its subjects, it cannot call to its aid, the Music, Fable and 
Pageantry of the theatre, its means of amusing or affecting are, and 
must be, derived exclusively, from a consummate skill in the arts of 
rhetoric and elocution. 



XX Supplementary Narrative, 

Finally , it was his unalterable resolution, not only to omit no 
occasion that might incidently offer, but even to seize with avi- 
dity every opportunity, to convert the rostrum into an instru- 
ment for the purposes of public utility and beneficence: by illus- 
trating the salutary influence, and adding something to the 

In other departments of oratory; the object, and consequently the 
success of the orator, are often wholly independent of his power to 
affect or amuse a miscellaneous audience: but, on the Rostrum, during" 
every exertion, and almost during every moment of every exertion, the 
orator must affect or amuse his auditors. 

To the successful exertion of oratory, in other departments; supe- 
rior skill in rhetoric and elocution is often unessential; to the very ex- 
istence of oratory on the Rostrum, it is indispensable; and the success 
of its exhibition, (as it respects the reputation or emolument of the ora- 
tor, the improvement or gratification of his auditors, or his usefulness 
to society,) will be exactly measured by the extent of this skill. 

The same causes, therefore, that produce superior ability in the 
practice of law, medicine, painting- or sculpture; of any liberal profes- 
sion, or ingenious art, may be expected to produce, on the Rostrum, su- 
perior skill in the use of rhetoric and elocution. 

In his efforts to attain this skill, the orator possesses on the Ros- 
trum, the peculiar and inestimable advantage of being permitted to 
follow the dictates of his judgment, and the impulse of his feelings, 
with independence and freedom. 

In the dimensions, form and decorations of his Rostrum; in his cos- 
tume, and in the whole style of his elocution, he may depart boldly 
and freely from established modes of public speaking; provided his au- 
ditors perceive and feel, that, in deviating from the path of custom, 
he strikes, or even approaches, that of truth and nature. This exemp- 
tion from restraint belongs to the Rostrum only, or, (doctor Blair's au- 
thority notwithstanding,) alone. 

In the exercise of oratory, (particularly as it respects elocution,) in 
the pulpit; in deliberative bodies; on the bench and at the bar; there 
are established modes, from which any remarkable departure, is wholly 
impracticable, or palpably improper. These modes are prescribed by 
causes that have no relation to elocution, and over which the orator has 
no control. On the Rostrum alone, can any innovation of this sort be 
attempted; and, therefore, on the Rostrum only, can elocution reach the 



Supplementary Narrative. 



xxi 



funds of literary, liberal, and charitable institutions, by steadily 
maintaining on the Rostrum, that independence of mind, loftiness 
of ambition, and disinterestedness of purpose, which could alone 
give dignity, or insure permanent success to the pursuit which 
he had embraced: which only could auspicate the introduction of 



perfection, of which it is susceptible. Nor need we fear, that this ex- 
emption from restraint will introduce extravagance and rant. Let it 
be recollected, that the audience will exercise a corresponding- inde- 
pendence, in dispensing censure and applause; that instant decisive 
marks of disapprobation will check and punish whatever may be 
extravagant or unnatural in the manner of the Orator: Let the cen- 
sorial superintendance of the supreme tribunal, too, be recollected. 

Nor will this exemption from restraint be confined to elocution 
alone. It will extend also to the choice of subjects; to the reasoning 
illustrations and embellishments of orations, delivered from the Ros- 
trum. In the selection and use of these constituents or adjuncts of 
eloquence, the candidate for rhetorical honours, may follow the pecu- 
liar bias of his genius; restrained only by the judgment of his intelligent 
auditors, and the animadversions of philosophical criticism. 

In the other departments of oratory; the same causes that fetter the 
powers of elocution, fetter the mind also, in the exertion of its faculties. 
The nature and objects of legislative, judicial, legal and ecclesiastical 
functions, often exclude altogether, and always admit with jealousy and 
reserve, the display of rhetorical skill. The reasoning, imagery, sen- 
timents and style of the oratory, respectively adapted to these depart- 
ments, are governed by severe and inflexible rules— rules, established, 
not with a view to stimulate, but, in many cases, for the purpose of sup- 
pressing, the exertion of eloquence. On the Rostrum only is the orator 
liberated from the restraints, which these rules impose. There only 



can the faculties of intellect and speech, (so far as is possible through 
the medium of oratory,) be exerted to their fullest extent; with united 
and unfettered energy. 

Thus would the Rostrum become at once, a nursery for the culti- 
vation, and a theatre for the exhibition, of elocution and rhetoric. 

It will exhibit a .constant succession of living models; from the 
contemplation and analysis of which, a standard of taste, in regard to 
elocution and rhetoric, will be gradually formed: This standard will be 
speedily applied to other departments of oratory, and subject every 



xxii Supplementary Narrative* 

a species of oratory, which is destined to spring up indigenously 
and flourish in the American republic; to open a new avenue, 
and expand an Olympic amphitheatre for the noble emulation, 
and heaven-ward aspirations, of genius, philanthropy, and gene- 
rous ambition. 

By a course of conduct (with the exception of a single devia- 
tion,* into which he was betrayed by inexperience and inconsider- 



corapetitor for the palm of eloquence, to a severer and more impartial 
ordeal. The public exhibition of these models, will gradually ani- 
mate the tameness of ordinary, and check the extravagance of thea- 
trical, elocution. 

To young persons, destined for professions, that call for the constant 
or occasional exercise of public speaking; the exhibition of these mo- 
dels, will be inestimably useful. 

Even a single striking exhibition of this sort, may kindle a flame of 
generous ambition in the soul of an ardent and aspiring youth; which, 
during a long life, may impel and animate him through a career of 
glory. 

In other departments, oratory may display her power, partially and 
incidentally; but the Rostrum alone, will contain her altar; her chosen 
ministers; her exclusive votaries; her fairest ornaments; her most for- 
midable weapons; and her proudest trophies. 

* As incidents of this sort are peculiarly obnoxious to mistatement 
and misconception; it will be proper, in the narrator's judgment, to 
state this incident, precisely as it occurred. 

In an oration on the " Progress of Civilization," (delivered during 
his first visit to Philadelphia,) he took occasion to enumerate and illus- 
trate, the inestimable benefits and blessings, for which mankind are ex- 
clusively indebted to the Christian Religion. 

During tins visit, his orations were delivered in a large room, in 
Fourth street; which, although hallowed, on the Sabbath day, by the 
public worship of God, is occasionally appropriated, in the course of 
the intervening days of the week, to other purposes. 

The learned Mr. Corea delivered, in that room, during the last two 
years, a course of lectures on Botany. 

It will be proper to mention, also, that the Rostrum, from which the 
narrator addressed his audience, was erected directly in front of a 
pulpit. 



Supplementary Narrative. xxiii 

ate counsel, which he reviewed with sincere regret, and which 
was followed by a public acknowledgment of its impropriety; (by 
every apology and acknowledgment compatible with personal 
dignity and independence,) he has had the happiness and hon- 



In closing- his observations on the blessed effects which Christianity 
has wrought, the narrator thus expressed himself. 

" To illustrate this momentous subject, with suitable solemnity and 
energy; to expound its sublime doctrines, and vindicate its divine ori- 
gin; to bring home, to your minds and hearts, a persuasion of its un- 
speakable importance, in relation to the destinies of immortal man, in 
a future state of existence, and in another world; are duties, which de- 
volve on the hallowed minister, who occupies the place behind me. 

" In the observations on this momentous subject, which I have pre- 
sumed to offer, Christianity has been viewed merely, as one of the great 
causes, which, in combination with other great causes, have improved 
the condition of society, and the character of civilized man. 

" The awful and mysterious question, in relation to its divine origin, 
I forbear to examine. 

" O pity, great Father of light and of life, 

" A heart that fain would not wander from thee, 

" So humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride, 

" From doubt and from darkness, Thou only canst free. 

" But darknes3 and doubt are not flying away, 

" Alas, I still roam, in conjecture forlorn, 
" Nor breaks on the wanderer, faint and astray, 

rt The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn." 

What impression the utterrance of these observations, and the recita- 
tion of the concluding stanzas, from Beattie's Hermit, made upon the 
minds of his auditors, or what emotions they experienced, the narrator 
was unable to conjecture. 

The silence, he well remembers, was deep and dead: His auditors 
seemed even to hold their breath, and to stare at each other with 
" stony eyes." The late C. B. Browne, who was one of his auditors, 
afterwards mentioned to the narrator, that his feelings, on that occasion, 
" made an sera in his sensations." 



xxiv Supplementary Narrative, 

our, to deliver original orations from the Rostrum, during three 
successive visits to the principal cities, and one visit to most of 
the smaller towns in the United States. 



The narrator, meanwhile, proceeded to finish the delivery of his 
oration; at the close of which, he drew a picture of the stupendous and 
tremendous military despotism, which a fortune, unparalleled in the 
annals of authentic history, had enabled Napoleon Bonaparte to estab- 
lish, and confidently predicted, (what he confidently anticipated,) the 
speedy and inevitable downfal, the penal and irretrievable perdition, of 
that most despicable and detestable usurper. 

The sentiments which he expressed, according- with those enter- 
tained by a great majority of his auditors, and being* clothed in that 
hyperbolical and bombastic jargon, and delivered with that impassion- 
ed vehemence, and unaffected enthusiasm; which will always, it is to 
be feared, be more acceptable to a miscellaneous audience, than lumi- 
nous analysis, and Attic elegance of diction, extorted a plaudit, loud, 
long", and apparently unanimous. 

After delivering- this oration, the narrator supped at the house of a 
respectable citizen of Philadelphia, and, in company with that literary 
circle, which, the humming--bird of Lilliput, the " minstrel of the bro- 
thel," the caricaturist of Anacreon, the metrical lampooner and lyri- 
cal libeller of whatever is peculiar, or peculiarly admirable and lauda- 
ble, in the national character, or political institutions, of the American 
people: that literary circle, which the modern Catullus has bepraised, 
in a style, which could only have been less offensive, even to the re- 
spectable g-entlemen, who compose that circle; than the malignant and 
mendicant minstrelsy which he has warbled, even in the public ear, 
in relation to their country, their countrymen and countrywomen. 

In the course of the animated, but rather desultory and clam- 
orous talk, which occurred after supper; the narrator was appris- 
ed, by one of the guests; that the sceptical opinion, which he had 
intimated, in relation to the divine origin of Christianity, had given 
great offence, not only to one or two clergymen, who were present; 
but to sundry grave and serious persons, of both sexes, belonging to the 
laity. 

This information excited, in the breast of the narrator, no ordinary 
degree of disquietude. In the prosecution of the design, which he had 
undertaken, the stage to which he had advanced, was critical. He was 



Supplementary Narrative. xxv 

He has had the satisfaction pretty generally, to address in- 
telligent and respectable persons of both sexes and of all de- 
nominations, and often to have beheld his lecture-room throng- 
ed with intelligence, taste and beauty. 



delivering specimens of oratory from the Rostrum, in the metropolis of 
the United States: He had obtained the use of the hall, in Fourth street, 
not under an implied condition, merely, but under an express promise, 
to utter nothing-, in delivering- his orations, that could be offensive, to 
persons of any religious persuasion: His previous success had been 
flattering- and brilliant, beyond his most sanguine expectations: During 
three evenings, he had beheld his room crowded with all the taste, 
science, intelligence, beauty, and even fashion of Philadelphia: His 
auditors had manifested their approbation, in a manner the most un- 
equivocal and emphatic. 

To dash, by imprudence, the brimming and golden goblet of suc- 
cess from his eager lip; dash it, almost untasted! at the moment when 
his heart thirsted to drain the delicious beverage, even to the dregs; 
was mortifying to better feelings than those of vanity and self-love: 
He recollected, and still recollects, this incident, with stern and un- 
mingled self-disapprobation. 

He returned to his chamber, at a late hour, and laid his aching head 
upon a pillow, which, during the night, anxious reflection had stuffed 
with thorns. 

During the succeeding day, he became fully aware of the degree, 
in which he had excited the odium theologicum. 

He paid a morning visit to doctor Rush, who, as soon as the narra- 
tor entered the room, exclaimed, " Well, sir, you have thrown away 
an empire of fame and emolument! it had been whispered, soon after 
your arrival here, that your orthodoxy was doubtful; but no one even 
suspected, that you would have the audacity and imprudence to avow 
scepticism, with regard to the divine origin of Christianity, in your ora- 
tions: more especially, in a place appropriated to the worship of God, and 
standing before a pulpit. You must look forward not only to a sudden 
and considerable reduction in the number and respectability of your 
auditors, and to an abrupt cessation of intercourse with respectable per- 
sons, who have hitherto sought your society; but to an immediate revo- 
cation of the use of the hall, in which your orations have been deli- 
vered." 

* q 



;xxvi Supplementary Narrative, 

He has enjoyed the yet higher satisfaction of illustrating on 
the Rostrum, the utility, and adding something to the funds of 
most of the literary and charitable institutions, now established 
in the United States. 

In reply, the narrator not only acknowledged the impropriety of the 
expression to which the doctor alluded, and his presentiment of its in- 
auspicious influence on his reputation and success on the Rostrum: but 
reminded the doctor, that, " although thirty-four years of age, he had 
spent that portion of the maturity of his life, which had previously 
elapsed, in a scholastic and contemplative seclusion: that he was as 
raw, ignorant and inexperienced in the ways of the world, and as little 
accustomed to the society, notions and manners of men and women of 
the world, as any, and much less informed and disciplined, by that sort 
of knowledge and intercourse, than many, American boys of fifteen 
years of age, and intimated his intention, to seize the earliest occasion 
to offer a public and contrite acknowledgment of, and apology for, 
the impropriety, into which he had been unthinkingly and culpably be- 
trayed." 

The doctor shook his head, with an ominous and solemn gravity, 
indicating, as plainly as a shake of the head could indicate, his appre- 
hension, or, more properly, his presentiment, that no acknowledgment, 
however contrite, no apology, however ample and explicit, would ex- 
piate the offence, in the estimation and feelings of the persons, who 
conceived that they had a right to be offended, by the indiscreet since- 
rity of the narrator. 

On returning to his lodgings, after this interview with doctor Rush, 
he met in the street, the venerable bishop White; who had done him 
the honour to listen to more than one of the orations, which he had 
previously delivered in Philadelphia, and had eulogized, in strong and 
emphatic language, one of them (an oration on the immorality of gam- 
ing), to which he had listened. 

The good bishop shook the narrator by the hand, expressed strong 
regret at the occurrence of the incident referred to in this note: ad- 
mitted the narrator's right to avow his conscientious convictions, with 
regard to the divine origin of Christianity: expressed decided disappro- 
bation of the avowal of sceptical impressions or doubts, at the time, and 
in the place, chosen by the narrator: reminded him of the express condi- 
tion on which he had obtained the use of the hall in Fourth street: stated 
his deliberate conviction, that no clergyman could, with propriety, lis- 
ten to any of the orations which he might afterwards deliver in Phila- 



Supplementary Narrative. xxvii 

Instances of any thing that had even the semblance of disor- 
der or indecorum, during the delivery of his orations, have not 
only occurred with a rarity without precedent probably,* in 

delphia, and pertinently added — " Whatever, sir, may have been your 
intention, you have done mischief: You may have examined this momen- 
tous question (although I cannot believe that you have examined it, 
with adequate deliberation, or to a sufficient extent), and are unfortunate 
enough, to entertain sceptical impressions. By avowing 1 these impres- 
sions on the Rostrum, you not only excite or encourage doubts, in im- 
mature and uninformed minds; but indispose such minds, to examine 
this all-important question, with due earnestness and impartiality." 

To this explicit, reasonable and appropriate address, the narrator 
replied as he had done to doctor Rush, and the bishop rejoined by a 
shake of the head (a head of ampler dimensions, and, although not am- 
plified by a wig, furnished with what is much more valuable, profound 
theological learning), still more grave and ominous than the doctor's. 

After delivering his next oration, in the same hall, on the succeed- 
ing evening; he expressed his sincere sorrow for the offensive avowal, 
into which he had been unthinkingly betrayed, in the preceding ora- 
tion, and asked to be forgiven: resolving never again to repeat this of- 
fence: it never has, and never will be, repeated. On the forenoon 
of the succeeding day, the following extract, from the minutes of a 
meeting of the trustees of the university, was handed to the narrator. 

" At a meeting of the trustees of the university, Tuesday, Novem- 
ber 1, 1809. 

" On motion, the following was unanimously agreed to: 

" Permission having been given to Mr. James Ogilvie to deliver 
lectures in the College Hall, in consequence of his assurance, that 
they should ' contain no sentiments, which could be offensive to per- 
sons of any religious persuasion;' and it appearing to this board, from 
satisfactory information, that, in the course of his lectures, he has 
given offence to persons of divers religious persuasions; Therefore, 

" Resolved, That the said permission be, and it is hereby revoked. 

" Ordered, That the secretary furnish Mr. Ogilvie with a copy of 
the foregoing resolution. 

" Extract from the minutes. 

« EDWARD FOX, Sec'y." 

* In the progress of his successive excursions through he United 
States, he recollects only three instances of the occurrence of any 



xxviii Supplementary Narrative, 

the history of any attempt to execute, (under similar circum- 
stances,) so delicate and novel an enterprise; but the narrator 



thing-, during- the deliver}- of his orations, that wore the semblance of 
indecorum. 

In a narrative of this sort, it will not, probably, be unacceptable to 
any reader; nor uninstructive to young and noble-minded candidates 
for the honours of the Rostrum (to all shallow, vain and venal babblers 
the Genius of the Rostrum proclaims Procul! O Procul!), to be inform- 
ed in what manner the narrator acted, on these occasions. 

Under these impressions, he will subjoin a brief statement of the 
three incidents to which he refers, and of his conduct, in each instance. 

Towards the close of an oration, which he delivered, during his first 
visit to New York; he was led to direct and fix the attention of his au- 
ditors, on an Epoch (pre-eminently memorable, even amid a twenty 
years' succession of astonishing events, and prodigious revolutions), the 
portentous Epoch! " when the conqueror of Lodi and Marengo, point- 
ing, with his batoon, to the white cliffs of Albion, whetted the insatia- 
ble cupidity, and infuriated the souls, of two hundred thousand canni- 
bals, disciplined to every deed of death and desolation; by describing, 
in ' words that burned' on his lips, and in imagery, which rage and ra- 
pine embodied and half realized as he spoke; the treasures of London, 
the plunder of the queen of isles; the beauty and the booty of the gar- 
den of the earth; the subjugation of the magna virum mater: to whose 
daughters the Paphian goddess had lent her Cestus, and every grace her 
peculiar attraction; to whose sons, Pallas had consigned her aegis, Po- 
mona her Cornucopia, and Neptune had, for a season, transferred his 
trident."* 

The audience, (which was composed of nearly one thousand persons,) 
catching, suddenly and simultaneously, the feelings of the speaker; 
gave vent to their sympathetic enthusiasm, in a loud, protracted, and, 
he believes, heart-felt plaudit. 

The room shook, as if it had been rocked by an earthquake, and 
re-echoed, as if it had reverberated the thunder's, or, the cannon's 
roar. 

* These were his words, accurately, or nearly:~For he does not possess 
a transcript of one of his orations. — These declamatory effusions were writ- 
ten on fragments of paper (often on the backs of letters): Nothing about 
them cost him much study but the elocution. 



Supplementary Narrative, xxix 

has even been fortunate enough, to receive almost uniformly, 
the most flattering- tokens of the approbation and even of the 
applause of his auditors. 



When the plaudit ceased, a gentleman deliberately rose from his 
seat, in the middle of the room; assumed an erect and disdainful port; 
looked intrepidly and indignantly around, and, without casting- a 
glance, or directing- his hai.d towards the Rostrum, but turning, both 
successively and slowly, to the auditors, in every part of the room; 
hissed, with set teeth, and with an intensity of sibilation, that indicated 
unusual vehemence in the feeling, by which it was prompted. 

His proceeding, excited a lively and general emotion of momentary 
anger: Frowning brows, and flashing eyes, were bent upon him: idly 
bent! — The hisser, with an air of calm defiance, conscious intrepidity, 
and scornful unconcern, resumed his seat. 

At that moment, the situation of the narrator, (then a novice in 
such scenes, and destitute of that habitual self-possession, and imper- 
turbable serenity of soul, which experience only can attemper and 
confirm), was critical and distressing. In the school of experience, he 
has, he trusts, acquired a self-control and self-subjection, which, to 
him, would make the recurrence of such an incident, amusing merely: 
At this time, if the contents of a loaded pistol, were discharged at him, 
whilst he was declaiming in the Rostrum, (unless the contents pierced 
his heart, opened an artery, from which life-blood would burst in a tor- 
rent, or inflicted intolerable agony); so unexpected and improbable an 
incident, could not now disturb him for a moment, or, but for a moment. 

Far different were his feelings, then: He experienced inexpressible 
disquietude. Advancing to the very verge of the Rostrum, and with a 
g/esture, attitude, and expression of countenance, which emphatically 
indicated the most anxious and earnest wish to be allowed to proceed; 
he succeeded in restoring order, and preventing outrage and violence, 
in an audience as polite and respectable as were ever, probably, as- 
sembled, in that populous, opulent and flourishing city. 

Next morning, a very injudicious article appeared in the New York 
Evening Post, " advising the united Irishman, who had the audacity to 
hiss, during the delivery of Mr. Ogilvie's oration, in the presence of a 
thousand persons, to take leave of absence, during the delivery of any 
orations which Mr. O. might afterwards pronounce." 

This article, as might have been expected, drew forth a reply, in a 
democratic paper; in which it was stated, " that, if this oration should 



xxx Supplementary Narrative. 

He has the yet prouder and more precious satisfaction of 
recollecting-, (whilst he is duly conscious of the liberality and in- 
dulgence of his auditors,) that he owes his success exclusively. 



be repeated, and if Mr. Coleman, (the editor of the Evening- Post), were 
present, the amusement of the evening- would be diversified and en- 
hanced by a game at leap-frog; in the course of which Mr. Coleman 
would amuse and astonish the audience, by the most prodigious leap, 
from a window of Attic altitude, ever witnessed, in that or any other 
city." 

The narrator, arrested an altercation, so hateful to his soul; so de- 
grading to the press; so offensive to the dignity, and damnatory to the 
nascent glory of the Rostrum; so abhorrent to all the aspirations and 
Chivalric enthusiasm, which had impelled him to undertake, and go- 
verned him in the execution of so romantic an enterprise; so odious, 
he is sure, to every liberal and intelligent person, of either sex, who 
witnessed his exhibitions: He arrested this vile altercation, by re- 
questing the insertion of the following card in the Evening Post: — 

" Mr. Ogilvie is sorry to observe any thing that fell from him, on 
the Rostrum, converted into a subject of newspaper altercation: The 
right to manifest approbation, and the right to express the opposite sen- 
timent, rest on the same foundation, and both rights ought to be exer- 
cised, with the same promptitude, sincerity, sensibility and independ- 
ence. He who addresses a miscellaneous audience, would manifest a 
culpable and pitiable weakness, in permitting bimself to be surprised 
or mortified, at finding that every thing he said was not alike accept- 
able to all of his auditors." 

At this time, if the narrator were called on, under similar circum- 
stances, to publish such a card; he would add, " that, so far as his own 
feelings were concerned, he could not but admire the man, who had 
the intrepidity to rise, and express, so boldly and emphatically, his so- 
litary dissent, from the sentiments manifested by a thousand persons." 

He does, with all his heart, admire such intrepidity. 

The publication of this card, drew from the hisser, or his friend, an 
article — which stated " that the hiss was not excited, by any thing 
which fell from the orator, who had uttered no sentiment which was not 
natural and proper, from the lips of a native of Great Britain: That 
the hiss was excited by, and directed to, the audience; who had lis- 
tened, in silence, to marked compliments to their own country, and to 
lively anticipations of its rising and prospective greatness, and (as the 



Supplementary Narrative, xxxi 

to the attractions and utility of the Rostrum; and that he has 
never, even for a moment, sacrificed sincerity or independence 
of mind, to party or faction, and never, exce fit for a moment , 
even bowed, at the shrine of popularity or fashion. 

hisser, or his friend, expressed himself in that article) clapped for king 
George." 

During- his second visit to New York, the narrator delivered the 
same oration, in the presence of a highly respectable audience, (and if 
he was not misinformed, the hisser was one of his auditors, on that oc- 
casion), not only without interruption, but with, apparently, unanimous 
approbation. 

The second instance occurred in Paris, one of the smallest towns 
in Kentucky. 

During- the delivery of an oration on gaming; a person, evidentty 
intoxicated, had taken his seat in the second row of benches, and re- 
peatedly disturbed the audience, and, at an earlier stage in the prose- 
cution of his design, would have embarrassed the narrator, by a beha- 
viour; which the epithets brutal, savage or barbarous would inade- 
quately characterise, (for a brute could not have been admitted near the 
Rostrum, and no savage or barbarian, could have so shamelessly sunk 
below the instinctive dignity of human nature): by a behaviour, in 
fact, which could be excused, or explained, only by insanity, or intoxi- 
cation. 

The narrator, being entirely unacquainted with the character, and 
even with the name, of the inebriated or insane intruder; determined 
to be governed, in his mode of proceeding, by the conduct of those 
around him; to whom, he thought it most probable, that he was well 
known. 

From their mode of treating him; their friendly, and seemingly sor- 
rowful and assiduous anxiety to check his extravagance; the narrator 
inferred, that he was a man of respectable station and character, who 
had accidentally drank to excess, previously to visiting the room. 

He accordingly raised his voice, to a tone that drowned the unmean- 
ing noise of this Salamander of Alcohol, and advanced, in the delivery 
of his oration; till a passage occurred, in which the misery and igno- 
miny of intemperance, were depicted , in strong colours: In pronoun- 
cing this passage, he descended from the Rostrum, and, advancing with 
a slow and pausing step, towards the bench, on which the involuntary, 
and, probably, unconscious violator of decorum sat, or on which he 
had staggered, and lay stretched; continuing to declaim, as he ad- 



xxxii Supplementary Narrative, 

His exhibitions on the Rostrum in the cities and towns through 
which he successively passed, were noticed by local gazettes, 
with almost invariable and often with extravagant eulogy:* He 



vanced, till he approached the mind-deserted body, as nearly as he 
could. 

Here, for a few moments, he stood still: ceased to declaim: folded 
Ins arms, and resting- his eye on the floor, slowly and solemnly said — 

" Where example so emphatically arrests attention, declamation 
may well he dumb: It is, and can be> but babbling and impertinence, 
in the presence of a warning-, that addresses the soul through the 
senses." 

The third instance occurred during- his second visit to Charleston. 

The narrator had announced an oration on female education, and, 
on that occasion, ladies were respectfully requested to dispense with 
tickets. 

The room was not merely crowded — it overflowed. It contains 
seats for the easy accommodation of five hundred persons: Seven hun- 
dred were assembled, when the narrator entered the room, and the 
door throug-h which auditors passed, was throng-ed with persons eager 
to be admitted. 

As he drew near the Rostrum, he observed six or eight young- gen- 
tlemen, who had arrived too late to procure a vacant bench, seated 
on it. 

Altercation with auditors is, at all times, and in all circumstances, 
most unpleasant; but altercation with persons, whom you are about to 
address, and the moment before you arise to address them; ought 
surely to be avoided, by any sacrifice of convenience or feeling, con- 
sistent with self-respect and personal independence. 

In this instance, however, to submit passively and in silence, to so 
flagrant an impropriety; to invite, and even sanction its repetition, by 
thus submitting, was not to be thought of. 

The narrator first tried the effect of polite expostulation. He ap- 
prised the young gentlemen, that as many seats as the area of the room 
could contain, had been procured; that to permit their sitting on the 
verge of the rostrum, during the delivery of his oration, would be ob- 
viously and greatly embarrassing to him, and offensive to a great ma- 
jority of the audience; and requested that they would embrace the only 

* These eulogies, if collected, would fill a volume. 



Supplementary Narrative. xxxiii 

associated on amicable terms with respectable persons of every 
sect, party and persuasion. Upon the whole, in looking back on 
the progress of an excursion which is drawing fast to its close, he 



alternative, which presented itself to a sense of decorum; standing", 
during- the delivery of the oration, or, taking- back their tickets, and 
withdrawing from the room. 

This expostulation was ineffectual: Several of the young- g-entlemen 
continued to sit on the Rostrum, and, with an air somewhat disdainful; 
an air distinctly indicating- their disposition to do what they pleased, 
without pleasing- to care about the propriety of what they did; the em- 
barrassment it might occasion to others; or the opinions which might be 
entertained of the propriety or impropriety of the mode, in which it 
was their imperial pleasure, their arbitrary will, to act. 

Young gentlemen, who act in this way, often profess to be, and 
think they are; and would knock down, challenge and shoot a fellow- 
citizen, who should hint a suspicion that they are not; zealous, and 
staunch, and enlightened republicans. 

It is, however, I fear, true, (and the discharge of the contents of a 
pistol, with a hair-spring trigger, with the utmost possible intrepidity, 
inhumanity and precision, through the heart of one of their friends or 
companions, who should venture to whisper a suspicion of this truth, 
in their hearing, would not, I fear, make it untrue); that this mode of 
acting is not only anti-republic an j but the assumption and exercise of 
a prerogative, which despots only can wield with impunity, and to the 
exercise of which slaves only, can passively submit. 

It is not the semblance, but the essence of arbitrary power. 

It may be worth while, too, to add, that so stupid a delusion, can 
be injurious only to its victim. 

In a state of society, like that of the American people, and under 
the form of government, to which this state of society has given birth 
and which it will preserve inviolate, probably, for a millenium; a con- 
scientious, decorous, and even sensitive respect for the equal rights of 
others, is the most unequivocal evidence of devotion to republican 
liberty, and the very shield of personal independence. 

But to return to the incident which he is recording. After pon- 
dering a few moments, the narrator advanced in front of the Rostrum, 
on which he turned his back, and, as soon as his indication of a wish 
to address the audience, had hushed the buzz of chattering, which, in a 

r r 



xxxiv Supplementary Narrative, 

recollects also with feelings which words, mere words! are inade- 
quate to express: that no one, who may be encouraged by the 
success that has crowned his exertions to pursue the career of 
glory and of good which has opened, can find an apology in the 
example of their precursor, for converting the rostrum, into 
an engine for the gratification of any sordid or inglorious pas- 
sion, or for the accomplishment of any immoral, sinister or fac- 
tious purpose. 

Feeling a clear conviction of the propriety of using, in 
this narrative, language thus explicit and emphatic; the nar- 
rator feels the propriety also, of enumerating the principal be- 
nefactions, which the emolument arising from the delivery of 
his orations, enabled him to present to useful institutions, in 
the different cities and towns of the United States, which he 
has successively visited. 

In Philadelphia the sum of g 150 to a society for the relief 
of the poor widows, and $70 or 80 to the St. Andrew's Society: 
In New-York, g350 equally divided between two charitable so- 



crowded and miscellaneous assembly, uniformly and unhappily precedes 
exhibition, he said, (suppressing-, as perfectly as he could, every ap- 
pearance of irritation or discomposure) — 

" Under arbitrary governments, order and decorum are preserved, 
in assemblies of this sort, by a coercive police, by military force: Un- 
der a republican government, and in a state of society ripe for its re- 
ception; the self-respect of every respectable citizen, and his habitual 
and unaffected deference for the equal rights of his fellow-citizens, are 
the safe-guards of decorum and order, not only in polite and select, 
but in the most miscellaneous and numerous assemblies. 

" To the rightful authority of this moral police," the narrator con- 
tinued to say, turning his eye, and pointing with his hand to the young 
gentlemen, who were seated on his Rostrum, " it is, he is sure it is! un- 
necessary to make a formal appeal." 

This short address had its intended effect: Young and impetuous 
spirits, who would probably have drenched the Rostrum in blood, had 
the bayonets of a Parisian police been employed to remove them, 
without resistance, without a murmur, withdrew from the Rostrum. 



Supplementary Narrative, xxxv 

cieties: — In Albany, in the state of New-York, $ 100 to a public 
library, $50 to an orphan asylum, and $70 to a reading room: 
In Providence, Rhode-Island, $79 to an orphan asylum, $60 to 
a public library, $50 to a ladies* reading-room, established in 
consequence of the impression made on the minds of his fe- 
male auditors, by an oration on the utility of public libraries: 
In Newport, in the same state, $70, to assist in repairing and 
refurnishing with books a noble edifice, originally erected for 
the purposes of a public library, but which had gone to ruin at 
the time, when the narrator visited Newport, and for the repa- 
ration, and refurnishing of which with valuable books, a consid- 
erable sum was subscribed by its opulent and intelligent inhabi- 
tants, in consequence of the impression left on their minds by 
an oration, which he had the honour of delivering: — In Boston, 
$500 to an orphan asylum, and SI 20 to an Athenaeum, by far the 
noblest institution of that kind in the United States, and a glo- 
rious monument of the perseverance, industry and public spirit of 
Mr. Shaw, the most active agent in promoting its establishment, 
the benevolent dispenser of the benefits and pleasures it affords: 
$120, to an orphan asylum in Salem: $70, to an orphan asylum 
in Newburyport: A similar donation, (the amount forgotten,) in 
Portsmouth: $50 for the uses of a benevolent society in Port- 
land: — $220, to a charitable institution in Baltimore: $280, to 
an orphan asylum in Charleston, $130 to a humane society 
in the same city: $250, to an orphan asylum in Savannah in 
Georgia, $240, to a public library in the same city: $ 1 20, to an 
orphan asylum in Augusta, in the same state: $100, to a pub- 
lic library in Lexington, Kentucky: $150 to an orphan asylum, 
in Fredericksburg, Virginia: $100 in Richmond, and $100 
in Petersburg, in similar institutions. 

There are, (the narrator fears,) readers, who will ascribe 
this enumeration of the benefactions, which he has made to 
public institutions, to ostentation and vanity. 

What shall he, what can he say, to propitiate such readers? 
—Nothing, he fears he can say nothing; which will not, in their 
judgment, aggravate his offence. 



xxxvi Supplementary Narrative. 

For he does recollect these benefactions, with self-complacen- 
cy and even with pride: he is not ashamed to avow, that these 
feelings accompany this recollection. 

These benefactions were made exclusively, from the emol- 
ument arising from his exhibitions on the Rostrum: they are, 
he trusts, an unequivocal evidence, of the sort of motives, by 
which he was actuated in the execution of the design, which he 
has undertaken.— The only evidence of the liberality and eleva- 
tion of his motives and objects, which he had it in his power to 
exhibit. 

Amidst all the vicissitudes of his future fortune, and the more 
terrible vicissitudes of internal feeling, to which he is constitu- 
tionally liable, and by which, he is periodically tortured} during 
those paroxysms of black and blasting melancholy, when a 
living soul seems to be united to a dead body; seems to be con- 
scious of, and in contact with, the " deep damp vault, the dark- 
ness and the worm;" when every sound is discord, every taste 
nauseous, every odour foetid, every form hateful; when the life- 
sick soul turns with aversion even from the voice and look and 
lip of friendship and of love; even amidst these awful visita- 
tions of alternate apathy and agony, this recollection will re- 
invest life with attraction and divest death of terror. 

In reviewing all the indiscretions and extravagances, into 
which he has been betrayed, bv ignorance of the world, inexpe- 
rience in its ways and unphilosophical contempt for its customs; 
by literary vanity; by a despicable avidity for popular applause;* 



* In adverting to this circumstance, it may not he unacceptable to 
any intelligent reader, nor uninstructive to the juvenile candidate for 
oratorical distinction; to state, that, whilst the pursuit which he had 
embraced, unhappily tended to nourish that passion for popular ap- 
plause, which constitutes (he hopes hereafter to be able, in reference 
to this infirmity, to substitute the past tense,) the master vice of his 
character, it brought with it a sort of " antidote to the bane." 

He soon became very painfully conscious, that the applause be- 
stowed by a miscellaneous audience, depends more on the animation 



Supplementary Narrative. xxxvii 

by momentary and morbid sensibility even to the grin and yawn 
of fashion: In reviewing all the indiscretions and extravagan- 



and impassioned vehemence, with which an oration is delivered; than 
on the value, novelty or profoundness of the thoughts, or on the pro- 
priety, or even beauty of the language in which they are clothed. 

The writer is constitutionally and incurably liable to very anoma- 
lous fluctuations of spirits and mental energy. At one time his mind, 
concentrating its energy, he knows not how, and glowing with rapture; 
seems to irradiate and etherealize the very matter in which it is embo- 
died: At another, his frozen heart, benumbed faculties, palsied 
tongue, leaden eye, pallid cheek, Hippocratic face, flaccid arteries and 
feeble pulse, exhibit the appearance of something spectral and sepul- 
chral, and are accompanied by an unassured consciousness, and a 
faintness of vital energy; vibrating betwixt the sick bed and the se- 
pulchre. 

His elocution is, of course, remarkably variable, and, in delivering 
his orations, is always too vehement or too languid. 

His local popularity and eclat, as a declaimer, underwent a corres- 
ponding fluctuation. In the progress of his excursions, every dis- 
course which he delivered, was successively regarded and pronounced, 
(by audiences of equal taste and intelligence,) the best and the worst, 
according to the languor or energy with which it happened to be deli- 
vered. 

Far, therefore, from being flattered or gratified, he was often 
deeply mortified and discouraged, by the eulogies that appeared in 
local gazettes; not only on account of their extravagance, but, as he 
conceived, and was convinced of, their misapplication. 

As an illustration of this curious fact, and as an evidence of the 
sincerity of the feelings which he has expressed, he will subjoin a 
card, which he addressed, through the medium of the Pittsburgh Ga- 
zette, to a writer in that paper, who signed an extravagant eulogy on 
his declamation" The Recluse." 

" MR. OGILVIE TO THE RECLUSE. 

« A CARD. 
" After acknowledging, with due sensibility, the politeness of the 
editor of the Pittsburg Gazette, and the kindness of the Recluse; Mr. 



xxxviii Supplementary Narrative, 

ces, into which he has been led by scholastic seclusion, by 
the Godwinian epidemic; by an anomalous temperament; by 
the excessive use of opium. — In reviewing all these indis- 
cretions and extravagances, (and each and all of them, are 

Ogilvie does not yield to the impulse of momentary feelings, but obeys 
the dictates of mature conviction, when he asks leave to observe, that 
the extravagant praise which the Recluse has showered upon him, has 
mortified him more than tha keenest satire, or the most fastidious cri- 
ticism could have done. 

" Assuredly Mr. O. is not indifferent to the approbation of persons 
of intelligence and taste, nor is he insensible to the charms of popular 
applause. But he has lived too long, to experience any sentiment but 
mortification, from extravagant praise. 

" Praise, bestowed with discernment and impartiality, is confess- 
edly one of the strongest incentives, and precious rewards, of every 
human exertion or effort; that contributes to the advantage or gratifi- 
cation of others. 

" When lavished, in undue proportion to the " quantum meruit," 
or to the quality of desert, it becomes worse than useless: can be gra- 
tifying only to imbecility and vanity. 

" The degrees and kinds of merit are infinite: by these the pro- 
portions of praise ought to be graduated; with these they ought to cor- 
respond. 

" The critic who volunteers his judgment of the rank, which the 
candidate for literary honours is entitled to claim, ought to recollect 
that he undertakes to execute a very delicate and responsible office. 
He ought to be confident that his claim to the qualifications of an um- 
pire is solid and acknowledged, and to have good reasons for believing, 
that his decision will correspond, at least, that it will not irreconcilably 
clash, with the judgments of that class of persons; whose concurring 
judgments only can decide every question of this sort. 

" If he assigns to the candidate for literary honours, a rank palpa- 
bly and extravagantly too high; he not only invalidates or annuls his 
own claim to judicial authority in the tribunal of taste, but disparages 
and depreciates the positive degree of merit winch he unduly exalts. 

" In such cases, it usually happens, that the iniquity of the partial 
arbiter is visited upon the candidate; who, in consequence, of extrava- 
gant praise, is often, in public estimation, placed, for a season, as much 



Supplementary Narrative, xxxix 

" written in his memory," in characters indelible, but by 
death,) he recollects with decided self- approbation that on 
the ROSTRUM; he has never forgotten what was due to 
the dignity of a pursuit, that opens to the descendants of the 



below, as such unmeasured eulogy attempted to place him above, the 
rank he may rightfully claim. 

" The Recluse has not only compared Mr. Ogilvie with eminent 
and immortal men, who challenged admiration, in a sphere to which 
the pursuit, which Mr. O. has embraced, bears no analogy; but with 
persons with whom, had it been his fortune to contend for glory, he must 
have felt and known himself to be as, inferior, in every mental endow- 
ment and accomplishment, as the Grampian hills, are to the Andes, in 
amplitude and altitude." 

The incidental hurry with which this card was written, prevented 
the narrator from subjoining the following observations, which it will 
not be useless, perhaps, to add. 

" In the metrical address, with which the Recluse closed his eulo- 
gy, he expresses an earnest wish that Mr. Ogilvie would deliver ora- 
tions, from the Rostrum, on the great political questions; which, at this 
time, divide the opinions, and agitate the passions, of the American 
people. 

" He must be, indeed a " Recluse," not to perceive that the utility, 
dignity and success; the very prosecution, of the design which Mr. O. 
has undertaken, not only exclude the discussion and illustration of, but 
forbid, on the Rostrum, the most remote or oblique allusion to, topics of 
this nature. 

" Assuredly, the security of a regulated and moral freedom is the 
most precious of all human blessings: Assuredly, such freedom is not 
a thing speculative in its nature, or equivocal in it* value: Assuredly, 
whatever concerns the use or abuse of freedom, must be of infinite 
moment, in the estimation of the wise and good: Assuredly, the man 
cannot have a heart in his bosom, or a soul in his body, who can be 
neutral in the discussion, or indifferent to the decision, of the political 
questions, that successively divide the opinions, and agitate the pas- 
sions, of a free people. He is not worthy to participate the blessings 
of liberty, who can be thus neutral and indifferent; who, on all proper 
©ccasions, will not deliberately form, and boldly avow, the opinion on 



xl Supplementary Narrative. 

Magna virum mater, a career sufficiently beneficent and glo- 
rious to satisfy and even to satiate, the amor patriae and the 
laudum immensa cupido. 



that side of every such question, which his understanding and his con- 
science lead him to embrace. He is not a good citizen, who is not at 
all times ready to die, in defence of freedom, and in defence of what- 
ever is essential to its security and permanence. 

" But there are seasons and places for all thing's. 

" The Rostrum is not a proper place, nor is the oratory of the Ros- 
trum an appropriate or efficient instrument for such discussions. 

" To invite intelligent and respectable persons, of both sexes, and 
of all parties, sects and persuasions; to listen to specimens of oratory, 
and to select, as the subjects of such specimens, questions, the discus- 
sion of which, (how luminous, temperate, profound and eloquent soever 
the discussion might be), cannot fail to alienate, shock and disgust some 
portion of a miscellaneous audience, would not be Quixotism, but 
folly. 

" The attempt to allay or mollify party animosities and factious 
passions, by declamations from the Rostrum; would be to pour oil, not 
on the agitated wave, but into the burning crater of a volcano. 

" Xerxes, lashing the billows of the Hellespont, did not exhibit a 
more ludicrous and memorable instance of presumptuous folly. 

" For the presumption of kings and conquerors there is an obvi- 
ous and plausible apology: for the presumption of those who undertake 
to instruct and reform their brethren, there is, there can be none: 
Such presumption deserves all the derision, disappointment, disgrace- 
ful and unpitied failure, by which it is surely overtaken and punished. 

" Under a government permanently and essentially popular; a go- 
vernment which will, probably, for a millenium, grow more popular, 
both in its spirit ai>d in its form; it is all-important that the genuine vo- 
taries of literature, the votaries who cherish a generous elevation, a 
sublime enthusiasm, in the race for moral and intellectual glory, should 
be aware; not of the expediency, but of the necessity, of disconnect- 
ing literary pursuits, as perfectly as possible, from the spirit of party 
and faction. 

" If they will not listen to expostulation, let them hearken to ex- 
perience. On this subject, its warning voice speaks in thunder: If 
they will not weigh arguments, let them look at facts: On this subject 
they blaze in sunshine. 



Supplementary Narrative. adi 

Much, and he trusts, neither crude nor superficial reflection, 
have combined with no narrow range of observation and ex- 
perience, to impress on his mind a conviction; which he thinks 
it will be proper to avow, that the Rostrum, is the most geni- 
al nursery for the revival and cultivation of oratory; the most 
splendid theatre for its exhibition; the most unweeded, fertile 
and varied soil for its beneficent application, that has been yet 
opened, to the aspiration of genius, philanthropy and generous 
ambition. 

In an oration entitled the " Rostrum," (the first of the series 
which he proposes to publish in a second volume,) the narrator 
will state and illustrate the grounds of this conviction. 

He will add, that he indulges a hope, (unless he should be 
disabled by disease or arrested in his career by death,) to vindi- 
cate the claims of this species of oratory to its rightful rank, 
(within the short period of two succeeding years,) in London, 
in Edinburgh and in Dublin. 

Intending also to publish hereafter, a circumstantial detail 
of incidents that occurred during his successive excursions 
through the United States; accompanied by observations and re- 
flections, on the situation, condition, political institutions, man- 
ners and customs, national character, and probable destinies of 
the American people; he will close this rapid retrospect, by 
mentioning a few other incidents, which (in a narrative of this 
sort, and in relation to the view, with which it is subjoined to 
the preceding Essays,) it would, he conceives be injudicious, 
not to narrate. 



" We have seen, and recently too, more than one instance, but 
one instance truly deplorable; of a man, of eminent and acknowledg- 
ed literary talents, maimed and dismounted, on the Arena, in the very 
outset of his career: doomed, or, more properly, dooming- himself, 
during the remainder of his life, to baffled effort and blasted hope, in 
consequence of becoming, (no matter what might be his motive or his 
object,) the minion of party, and the tool of faction." 

s s 



xlii Supplementary Narrative. 

At the close of his second excursion through the eastern 
and middle states, he determined, after visiting Charleston, 
Savannah, and one or two of the inland towns in South Caroli- 
na and Georgia; to pass eighteen months or two years, in the 
western states. 

To the moral observer, this region presents a spectacle, not 
only interesting and wonderful; but without parallel in the re- 
cords of authentic history, or, in any other part of the habitable 
globe, hitherto explored. 

The narrator found here, not only widely scattered and firmly 
rooted, but in a state of luxuriant vegetation and rapid progress 
towards maturity; the seeds of a moral, and exuberant civi- 
lization. 

When he recollected, that this part of the territory of the 
American Republic, was twenty years ago a howling wilder- 
ness, and that it had been explored, reclaimed and populated by 
a portion of the illustrious race of men, who derive their descent 
from Scotland, England and Ireland, he felt his heart swell 
with emotions, with which every human creature, (whose name 
is worthy to be enrolled amongst the dead or the living, the pro- 
genitors or progeny who compose, have heretofore composed, 
or may hereafter compose, this illustrious race,) will sympathize, 
into corde. 

He was ready to apostrophize with more than filial reverence, 
the magna virum mater, and to invoke the vengeance of God 
and man, on the heads of the infatuated wretches, on which 
ever side of the Atlantic they are born; whether they be natives 
or inhabitants of insular or continental Albion; who seek to dis- 
unite the interests, and alienate the affections of two communi- 
ties* whom " nature and nature's God," have bound together 
by so many precious, sacred, and peculiar ties. 

* Two communities! It is surely more natural for every citizen or 
sojourner in the United States, who was born and educated in Britain 
or Ireland: It is even more rational and philosophical, to regard them as 
integral parts of one great community, occupying separate territories, 
and existing under different and independent g07ernments. 



Supplementary Narrative, xliii 

Whilst he was indulging these natural, but essentially 
selfish and partial feelings, he forgot not the homage that is due 
to the spirit of regulated and moral freedom; to which that il- 
lustrious race are indebted for their pre-eminence in the great 
family of mankind: The homage due to the power of pro- 
gressive improvement, which promises to diffuse amongst the 
future descendants of that widely-scattered family, and by the 
instrumentality mainly of this illustrious race, the blessings of 
liberty, plenty, and intellectual cultivation. 

Nor did he forget the ineffable gratitude, which is due to 
" Our Father who is in Heaven;" who, by the dispensations of 
a beneficent providence, is constantly educing good out of evil: 
who has willed that this world should not only be a theatre for 
the progressive improvement, but a probationary preparation 
for an immortality of bliss, to all who are, by the practice of 



The successful revolutionary conflict, which severed for ever the 
colonial tie; the glorious declaration of independence; the deliberate 
adoption, and efficient establishment, of a government, democratic in 
its spirit, and republican in its form, which followed this conflict; are 
events, (as they affect the separate or common interests of both portions 
of this great community,) worthy of special gratitude to the " Giver of 
every good and perfect gift," of anniversary rejoicing, in the temples 
of the Most High, on both sides of the Atlantic; throughout the civil- 
ized world, and to the end of time. 

In consequence of these great events, the separate and common 
interests of both countries, are not only more efficiently protected and 
promoted, and the feelings of natural affection and social amity, have 
a deeper and richer soil into which to " strike their everlasting roots," 
and a kindlier atmosphere to ripen their blessed fruits: but the NEW 
WORLD, becomes, what it is destined to be, the Regenerator of the 
old world: an accessible, hospitable and inviolable asylum, to the vic- 
tims of oppression and the votaries of freedom: the most stable and 
magnificent monument of the glory of the queen of isles, and " a 
boundless theatre," in which man is destined 

" To run, 
" In sight of mortal and immortal powers, 
" The GREAT CAREER OF JUSTICE." 



xliv Supplementary Narrative. 

piety and virtue, worthy to share it, in « another and a better 
world." 

To return.— The narrator was not induced to visit the wes- 
tern country solely, by curiosity to contemplate society under an 
aspect novel and interesting: He wished to devote eighteen 
months in the solitude of primeval forests, to the composition of 
a new series of orations; on a plan more systematic, and with an 
exertion of his faculties, more severe and concentrated. 

He had another inducement, in selecting the western coun- 
try for this purpose. 

Soon after his arrival in Virginia, he had become acquainted 
with a man, who had also been born and educated in Scotland, 
and emigrated to Virginia, soon after he had finished his studies 
in the college of Glasgow. 

His name is James M'Allister: He is the son of a weaver 
in Stirling, and one of a family of ten children. 

This man was more remarkable for mental capacity and 
cultivation; for clearness and depth of thought; for perspicuity 
and promptitude in the colloquial communication of his ideas; 
for simplicity of manners; for spotless purity, and innocence of 
heart; for exemption from the influence of every vicious and vis- 
ionary passion; for whatever exalts one man above another, as 
an intelligent being: He came nearer to the character of a scien- 
tific sage, than any human being, the narrator has ever known, 
with the exception of William Ogilvie, professor of humanity, 
in King's College, Old-Aberdeen, in Scotland.* 

Mr. M'Allister had retired to the western country, settled 
there, probably for life, married, and become the father of a 
family. 

In the society and conversation of this extraordinary person, 
the narrator hoped to find an incentive to the prosecution of the 
noble enterprise which he had undertaken: He hoped to derive 



* This gentleman is the author of a profound and original essay on 
" The Right to Property in Land:" of which, if the narrator mistakes 
not, there is a copy in the Loganian library. 



Supplementary Narrative. xlv 

assistance in the development of the momentous subjects, 
which he proposed to analyze and illustrate. 

Here bitter was his disappointment! He found him alive, 
indeed, and neither in bad health, nor in unprosperous circum- 
stances; but the ghost and shadow of what he might, the narra- 
tor adds with pain, ought to, have been. 

He found him, the idolater and vassal of indolence; the 
breathing and unburied victim of a voluntary and seemingly 
predestined insignificance and obscurity. 

Yet, with one spark of the laudum immensa cupido, young 
reader! this man, as an instructor of youth; as a philosopher; 
as an orator; as a critic; as a legislator; in any pursuit, profes- 
sion, or sphere, that calls for the display of transcendanl genius 
and ripened wisdom; might have been one of the luminaries of 
the world, the object of universal and immortal admiration, 
reverence, and love. 

The impotence and obscurity of James M'Allister, is the 
most singular intellectual anomaly; the most perplexing moral 
phenomenon; the most mournful and humiliating evidence of 
the imperfection of " poor human nature," and the most conclu- 
sive evidence of the necessity for the love of wealth, power, po- 
pularity, or glory, (of some motive distinct from the mere power 
and pleasure of thinking,) to call forth the steady and strenuous 
exertion of intellectual energy; which the narrator has ever 
observed, read or heard of. 

After spending a week in Lexington, and delivering two of 
his orations, he visited Bards' town, in the vicinity of which 
Mr. M'Allister lived, and sometimes, (but as rarely as possi- 
ble,) moved. 

It was his previous intention to reside a few months in this 
village; in order to have more convenient and frequent access 
to Mr. M'Allister's society and conversation. 

But upon renewing his intercourse with this motiveless 
monster of intellect, he sensibly felt the infectious stupefac- 
tion of his incurable and seemingly innate lethargy. 

As he listened to the cogent, but abhorred logic; the ner- 
vous, but soul-chilling eloquence, with which he expatiated on 



xlvi Supplementary Narrative, 

the inanity of fame, present or posthumous; on the difficulties 
and vexations with which the candidate for literary honours 
is doomed to struggle, often abortively, and on the nothing- 
ness even of the most brilliant and envied and triumphant suc- 
cess; he felt conviction " o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold," 
the flame of enthusiasm, 

" With damp aud darkness seem'd to strive, 
As if it scarce could keep alive"* 



* Having quoted two lines from one of the most popular produc- 
tions of a modern poet, (whose poetry has excited so much attention 
and admiration,) the narrator takes occasion to opine, that the descrip- 
tion of the vault of penitence, in Marmion, is perhaps the finest pas- 
sage in that epic ballad. 

One cannot readily find any where a passage, that more powerfully 
" quells the heart with that grateful terror," which constitutes one of 
the noblest efforts of poetical genius, and one of " nectar'd sweets" 
of cultivated taste: in contrast with the disgustful and sepulchral hor- 
ror, which is as easily and strongly excited by the tales of a beldame 
as by the Leonora or Burger, and can be gratifying only to stupid cre- 
dulity, corrupted taste, infantile or savage ignorance. 

In the vault of penitence, all the images of poetical horror are en- 
shrined. 

So deep, that the loudest and most piercing shriek, could scarcely 
"reach the upper air:" So lone, that "few, save the abbot, knew 
where the place lay:" — That it may be irremeable to its visitants and 
inmates, " victim and executioner are blindfold, when transported 
there:" So damp and dim, that the light of a single "cresset," de- 
pending " from its iron chain," glimmered in its struggle to " keep 
alive:" So old and unfrequented, that its " pavement," is composed of 
" stones half sunk in earth, by time half wore." 

The " niches," that yawned in the " dark wall," so " narrow;" 
that the " haggard monks, in Benedictine dress," stood motionless in 
their apertures: So deep, that the " blazing torches, they upheld," 
served only to embrown the darkness, of the unearthy cavity behind 
them. 

L as t — The " hewn stones and cement," prepared to close and seal 
up whoever or whatever, is thrust there from the world, for ever. 



Supplementary Narrative, xlvii 

Howsoever extravagant, what the narrator has said of Mr. 
M'Aliister's intellectual powers may seem to readers, to whom 
his name is mentioned for the first time; he is assured, that he 
has said nothing which will be thought extravagant, by any of 
his readers, (their number, alas, must be small,) to whom this 
extraordinary man is personally known; and who have ever 
witnessed, during an hour of animated conversation, the fearless 
frankness, the transparent sincerity of his soul: whose minds 
have basked for an hour, in the solar brightness of an intellect, 
that pierced, as if by intuition, and dissipated almost with the 
evidence of demonstration, every subject on which, and through 
which, it shot its penetrating beam. 

Mr. Taylor, of Caroline county, Virginia,* (one of the most 
prompt, practised, dextrous, colloquial gladiators living,) who 
has often felt the withering glance and grasp of that powerful 



What critic, how eager soever to expose the peculiar defects and 
blemishes, and however indisposed to relish the peculiar, and often un- 
rivalled beauties of the Scottish minstrel, will, or can refuse his admi- 
ration to this exquisite passage? 

* This gentleman has recently published a dense and ample octavo, 
in reply to what Mr. Adams has entitled, " a Defence of the American 
constitutions." 

In giving 1 a title to his works, the latitude and discretion of an au- 
thor is unquestionably ample, hut Antiphrasis is scarcely allowable. 

This conflict betwixt the native and savage strength and subtility 
of intellect; unarmed, except with the teeth, hoof and talons which 
nature supplies, and a champion, cased from head to heel, not in the 
adamantine mail of science, but in the helm and hawberk, Sic. of feu- 
dal learning: not levelling the rifle of analysis, or discharging the Con- 
greve rockets of philosophical rhetoric, but launching the barbed 
and feathered shaft, with the skill of a Toxopholite: projecting the 
massy javelin and ponderous spear, with Telamonian strength; is per- 
haps the most amusing spectacle, that has been exhibited on the lite- 
rary arena, in the American republic, since its birth. 

The spectacle of this struggle, betwixt the wily Retiarius and the 
dextrous Secutor, is not merely amusive: to the youthful candidates for 
literary, philosophic or political distinction, it is highly instructive. 



xlviii Supplementary Narrative, 

intellect, whose wily eye has wavered, and whose fluent tongue 
has faltered into momentary dumbness, in colloquial conflict 
with this invincible logician; will charge the narrator, in what he 
has said, rather with tameness than extravagance. 

This ill-fated man, is doomed to pass the rest of his life, not 
where he ought to be, near the centre of the most enlightened 



They will see how little, in an age like this, can be accomplished 
by genius without taste; by learning- without knowledge; by sagacity 
without science. 

They will behold the Sysyphus of sophistry, 

" With .many a weary step, and many a groan, 
" Up a high hill, heaving an huge round stone." 

The stone! which science would have empowered him to project from 
the base, to the " cloud-capt summit" of the hill, without one " weary 
step," or one " groan," by the contraction merely of his finger, or the 
flexure of his arm. 

They will see this " huge round stone," " resulting with a bound," 
and descending with accelerated velocity to its original position. The 
stone! which, had it been aimed with the skill, and projected with the 
momentum of science, would not only have crushed his adversary, but 
whirled the very summit (on which he proudly towered, and from 
which he looked contemptuously down upon the engineer,) into the 
very bottom of the subjacent vale. 

There is no blunder or solecism in phraseology; no fault or defect 
in style; no species of variety of sophism; no infelicity of illustration, 
of which Mr. Ta3 T lor's book, does not furnish original and ample speci- 
mens; yet, had he enjoyed the benefits of liberal education; had his 
mind been judiciously disciplined and instructed, Mr. Taylor might 
have been a profound thinker, an admirable logician, an elegant 
writer, and an accomplished orator. 

Young Virginians — Reeves, Gilmer, Robertson! Young Caro- 
linians — Legare, Wardlaw, Taylor, Smith! 

Young native or adopted citizens of the American republic, in 
whatever state you may reside, and to whatever sort of distinction you 
aspire (except that which arises from the accumulation of superabun- 
dant, and misapplied or hoarded wealth), remember THIS. 



Supplementary Narrative, xlix 

circles in Edinburgh, London, and Paris; but in the bosom of 
the western wilderness. 

Yet even there, his possible value is inestimable. 

Could any popular Kentuckian patriot, (Mr. Clay, for in- 
stance, or the narrator's noble-minded friends, Hawkins and 
Crittenden,) draw him from his idolized obscurity, and place 
him at the head of the college of Lexington, (whose present 
president would surely vanish at the very sound of his name;) 
they would give themselves additional claims not only to the 
confidence and respect of their countrymen, but titles to the 
gratitude of posterity. 

It is afflicting, it is humiliating, to reflect; that whilst the 
votaries of Mammon ransack the sunless and poison-breathing 
caverns of the earth; descend even to the ceiling of Pandemo- 
nium; venture almost into the jaws of death and hell, to extract 
gold from the bowels of the earth; patriotism will suffer wis- 
dom to slumber inactively on its surface, and genius to " waste 
its sweetness on the desert air." 

After a few interviews, he recoiled with implacable anti- 
pathy from this incarnate Genius ot the Castle of Indolence, and 
fled from his society, before he had fastened his spell upon his 
soul. 

From Bards' town, he made an excursion to Nashville, in 
the state of Tenessee: On his way thither, he stopped for re- 
freshment at a solitary log house, situated at the bottom of a 
glen, encircled by hills, whose summits may have been bathed 
by the waters of the flood, and whose sides were overshadowed 
by pathless, and at that season of the year, leafless forest. There 
was not a human habitation within miles of this house. 

Here he found an intelligent gentleman, with an amiable 
wife, and interesting children. 

This gentleman had emigrated from Virginia ten or twelve 
years before, and possessed in an uncommon degree, the urba- 
nity and affability of deportment, independence and generosity 
ol spirit, ingenuousness of disposition and warmth of feeling, 
which characterize the Virginian and South Carolinian gentle- 
men. 

t t 



1 Supplementary Narrative, 

This family lived in singular seclusion: neighbours they 
had none, and their distant acquaintances and friends could not 
be expected to visit this solitary spot, during the dreary winter, 
which was then commencing. 

This spot, seemed to be peculiarly favourable to the fruition 
of intense and uninterrupted reflection. Here the contemplative 
visionary, (morning, noon, and night,) might ruminate in a 
noiseless chamber, or roam the dismal and silent forest. 

Here such a visionary might brood over his own thoughts; 
revel in reverie, and bask in the sunshine of contemplation, 
amid a stillness unbroken, 

** Save when the heetle wheel'd his drony flight, 
" Wound his slow and sullen horn," 

Or, when the startling bat 

" Flitted hy on leathern wing." 

Here accordingly, the narrator determined, with the con- 
sent of his landlord, to sojourn six months, and devote his lei- 
sure exclusively to the composition of orations. 

On intimating his wish to this gentleman, (Mr. Benjamin 
Temple,) his consent and that of his lady were promptly, and 
even affectionately accorded. 

In this state of monastic seclusion, 

" The world forgetting, by the world forgot," 

without access to books, or to any society, but that of the 
family for half an hour at breakfast and dinner, and sometimes 
an hour and a half in the evening; he consumed six months in 
tasking and exhausting, the transient and tantalizing hours of 
intellectual energy, which in his " system," are uniformly al- 
ternated by days, weeks, and sometimes by months; of collapse, 
atony, and impotent volition. 

At the expiration of this period, he determined, (for the sake 
of health and exercise, and in order to try the effect of one or 
two of the orations, which he had written during his seclusion,) 



Supplementary Narrative, li 

to visit the principal towns in Kentucky, and to deliver orations 
in each. 

He passed successively, (lingering a few days in each,) 
through Louisville, Bards' town, Frankfort, Lexington, Dan- 
ville, Winchester, and Paris, and had often the pleasure of ad- 
dressing audiences, (composed of nearly one hundred persons of 
both sexes,) nowise inferior in intelligence and accomplishments 
to their eastern brethren. 

That an amusement, in its essence literary and rhetorical j 
wholly divested of the fable, pageantry, and music of the thea- 
tre; fastidiously disconnected from all connection with, or, even 
allusion to, party and faction: that an amusement that presup- 
poses no merely vulgar ignorance or rudeness, in the persons to 
whom it is addressed, should have attracted, (generally attract- 
ed) marked and respectful attention, is surely no equivocal 
evidence of an advanced civilization. 

But facts are better than compliments, especially in a nar- 
rative. A well turned and properly applied compliment, is 
nothing but a fact courteously and gracefully insinuated. In- 
deed v any compliment that has no foundation in fact, is but sar- 
casm in disguise, insidious flattery, or covered irony: a com- 
pliment in the teeth of fact, (however intended or received,) is 
falsehood, base and vile; can be uttered only by fraud, and can 
be acceptable only to folly. 

The narrator is aware, that there are persons in the eastern 
states, so uninformed and prejudiced, as to regard their western 
brethren as a sort of savages. 

Having spoken of the inhabitants of the western country, in 
a complimentary strain; he will therefore record a fact, which 
(amongst many others which he could now, and probably will 
hereafter, state), will evince that the compliments he has paid, 
are neither unmeaning nor undeserved. 

He has previously stated, that in delivering his orations in 
small towns, he was obliged to hire the use of ball-rooms. 

In Kentucky, from the non-existence as yet of any more 
commodious and appropriate place, he uniformly addressed his 
audience in such rooms. 



m 



lii Supplementary Narrative, 

In the larger cities of the eastern states, the pecuniary re- 
muneration exacted for the use of the rooms in which he de- 
livered his orations; was uniformly the maximum. 

He records with pride and satisfaction two exceptions: 
During his visit to the city of Washington, the hall of the house 
of representatives was, (with the unanimous consent of the mem- 
bers,) offered for his use, and he was not allowed to defray the 
expense of lighting the noble hall, (in which he had the honour 
to address the most august audience, that can be assembled in 
the United States,) nor that incurred by erecting a temporary 
Rostrum. 

In Richmond too, the hall of the house of delegates was, 
(both during the recess and session of the legislature,) opened 
for his reception, by the governor of Virginia, (governor Bar- 
bour,) and in a manner the most gratifying and acceptable. 

In Kentucky the ball-rooms in which he spoke, made a part 
of hotels and taverns. 

Without intending to make any invidious comparison, be- 
tween the proprietors and superintendants of hotels and persons 
in other stations; it will be admitted, that this employment is 
not particularly favourable to the cultivation or exercise of 
liberality, in pecuniary transactions. 

That this employment does not preclude, on the part of 
those who adopt it, the exercise of such liberality, the fact 
about to be stated, would alone sufficiently evince. 

Whatever Pope meant, there is good and solid sense in the 
lines, 

*• Honour and shame, from no condition rise, 
" Act -well your part, there all the honour lies." 

Liberality and illiberality, are dispositions in the minds, and 
habits, in the character of man and woman; not the adjuncts or 
effects of their employments. 

A guest possessing sensibility and discernment, may feel 
that he is treated illiberally, in the most gorgeous palace that 
opulence has ever erected, and at the most sumptuous banquet, 
by which the senses were ever feasted: — And the same stran- 
ger may experience a liberality, that will awaken the finest 



Supplementary Narrative. liii 

sensibilities of his soul, in the humblest cot, in which poverty 
ever hid its head. 

But to proceed — During his successive visits to the principal 
towns of Kentucky, in three instances; in Lexington, Danville, 
and Frankfort, the proprietors of hotels refused to make any 
charge for the use of their ball-rooms, assigning as a reason, 
that they thought the rooms honoured by such exhibitions. 

He well remembers, that captain Davinport, (the proprietor 
of a hotel in Danville,) when the narrator pressed him to receive 
a moderate, and barely equitable compensation, for incidentally 
considerable trouble and inconvenience, in preparing the room 
for his reception, declined with a feeling somewhat indignant. 

After having twice traversed the greater part of the United 
States, in the character of a declaimer on the Rostrum, and de- 
livered discourses on NATIONAL EDUCATION, on the 
PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION, AND PROSPECTS 
OF SOCIETY; on LUXURY; on USURY; on DUELLING, 
GAMING, SUICIDE and WAR; on the UTILITY OF 
PUBLIC LIBRARIES, on the PRESS, on the ROSTRUM, 
on BENEFICENCE, &c. besides various, and somewhat ela- 
borate criticisms, annexed to the recitation of select passages 
of poetry; the narrator determined to prepare a course of 
Lectures on Oratory, for the purpose of being delivered to 
successive classes, formed in the colleges and principal cities 
of the United States. 

He proposed to accompany these lectures, by regular ex- 
ercises in composition, criticism, and, above all, of elocution. 

Unaccompanied by such exercises, (steadily, diligently, and 
skilfully conducted,) any course of lectures on oratory, however 
luminous and original, must be inefficient; with any view to the 
practical instruction or improvement of youth, in the cultivation 
of the grandest and most useful of all human accomplish- 
ments. 

The notorious and opprobrious inefficiency of all modern 
efforts to impart, or even to improve practical skill in oratory; 
is principally ascribable to the incapacity or disinclination of 
lecturers on oratory, to connect such exercises with the deli- 
very of their lectures. 



liv Supplementary Narrative, 

In teaching elocution, (and the extent to which skill in elo- 
cution may be taught, he knows to be great, and believes to be 
indefinite, or limitable only by the skill of the teacher,) the 
drudgery and labour which he must undergo, are no doubt, 
overwhelming, and the occasional trial of temper is tremen- 
dous. 

But this drudgery, and labour, and trial of temper, must 
be encountered with philanthropic energy, endured with 
Christian patience, and pursued with Lancasterian perseve- 
rance, by every lecturer on oratory, who is disposed and quali- 
fied to do his duly: By every teacher of oratory, who is smitten 
with an honest zeal, inspired, the narrator would rather say, by 
a noble emulation, to promote the revival and cultivation of an 
art; which has gone back, whilst inferior arts, (and what other 
art is not inferior!) have advanced, and even in consequence of 
the advancement of inferior arts: To promote the cultivation of 
an art, the revival of which, is the proudest and fairest trophy of 
republican liberty; the nurture of which, is her darling care; the 
perfection of which, is at once her shield and spear. 

Having formed this design, (the execution of which, he con- 
sidered as the second stage, in the progress of the enterprise 
which he had undertaken,) he was led, by circumstances which 
he will proceed to state, to select the college of South Caro- 
lina, as the theatre of his first systematic effort as a teacher of 
oratory. 

In the progress of his first excursion through the United 
States, he had paid a short visit to Columbia; the seat of the col- 
lege, and the seat also, of the annual sessions of the state le- 
gislature. 

On his arrival there, he waited on the president of the col- 
lege, doctor Maxcy; and was received and treated with Attic 
simplicity and urbanity, by that ingenious, learned and most 
amiable man. 

On intimating his intention to deliver one or two of his ora- 
tions in Columbia; president Maxcy, in a manner the most 
prompt, cordial and flattering, offered him the use of the col- 
lege-chapel for that purpose. 



Supplementary Narfative, lv 

This offer was readily and thankfully accepted, and he had 
the satisfaction to deliver three orations, in a place suitable to 
the dignity of such exhibitions. 

The admission of students was, of course, gratuitous: 
nearly all the students then at college, attended every evening; 
although a smaller number of the citizens of Columbia listened 
to these orations, than he had ever addressed in any city, town, 
or rural village, which he had previously visited. 

After delivering a third oration, as he was crossing the area 
in front of the college, he was surprised by the sudden burst- 
ing forth of a blaze of light: on looking back, he beheld the 
windows of the college, and of the house of president Maxcy, 
brilliantly illuminated; and over the door of the Chapel, a tran- 
sparency, exhibiting the American eagle, bearing in her talons 
the narrator's name. 

So lively a demonstration of the ardour and sensibility of 
ingenuous youth, was most gratifying and even delicious, to the 
feelings of the narrator: He envies not, nay he would feel strong 
disgust towards the gravity, dignity, stoicism, (call it what you 
please,) of the man, who could witness such a demonstration, of 
which he was himself the object, without kindred emotions. 

It was the recollection of this circumstance; combined with 
the blended confidence, respect, esteem, and even attachment, 
which the conversation, manners, and countenance of president 
Maxcy, had left upon his mind; which determined him to select 
the college of South Carolina, as the theatre of his first sys- 
tematic effort to teach oratory. 

He accordingly, soon after his return from the western 
country, revisited Charleston: after passing a few days there; 
he travelled to Columbia, and took the earliest opportunity to 
explain the object of his visit, to the Faculty and Trustees of 
the college. 

He experienced from both the most liberal and polite re- 
ception: every facility, to the gratification of his wishes and 
the execution of his project, which it was in their power to 
afford, was extended to him. 



lvi Supplementary Narrative, 

By the advice of his friend, doctor Maxcy, (who embraced 
the proposal with an ardour that corresponded, and even vied, 
with his own,) he printed a short prospectus of the nature and 
objects of the course of lectures, &c. which he proposed to de- 
liver. An extract from this prospectus will be found in the 
appendix to this volume. 

The pecuniary compensation which he required was unu- 
sually moderate: It would have afflicted and mortified him, to 
have prevented, any student, (who possessed the requisite 
share of capacity, cultivation, and ambition,) from offering 
himself, on the score of expense, as a candidate for admission 
into the class, he wished to form. 

The hope of pecuniary emolument, made no part of his in- 
ducement to undertake this design. 

Not that he is insensible to the propriety and reasonableness 
of being influenced, and even, in many instances, exclusively in- 
fluenced, by views of pecuniary emolument. At his time of life, 
he would be thoroughly ashamed of so absurd an affectation, or 
of so childish a delusion. 

Nor is he at all disposed to overlook the efficacy, or dis- 
parage the propriety of such motives; when directed to their 
proper objects, and confined within their appropriate sphere. 

In all pursuits, that have for their object the gratification of 
the animal wants of the individual; or the acquisition of the phy- 
sical means of gratifying wants of any description; regard to 
pecuniary emolument is a reasonable, moral, and becoming 
motive of action. 

Such motives and actions make a part of virtue; that virtue 
on which the happiness of every human being more or less, and 
on which the happiness of a great majority of human beings, 
firincifially, depends. 

But such motives never did, and never can, prompt gener- 
ous, magnanimous, or noble actions. 

If such motives consciously influence exertions, that have for 
their object the moral and intellectual improvement of our fel- 
low men, and especially of ingenuous youth; they tarnish the 
motive, pervert the action, and debase the actor. 



Supplementary Narrative. lvii 

If such motives stimulate actions that ought to be prompted 
by the love of glory, present and posthumous; of good, moral, 
or, intellectual; by a species of infernal Alchemy, they trans- 
mute virtue into vice. 

The worship of God and Mammon, are not more irrecon- 
cileable, than a concern about pecuniary emolument, in the 
execution of any noble enterprise: in the exercise of philanthro- 
py and patriotism; or in the performance of liberal or noble 
actions. 

These are not the sudden and crude, but the habitual and 
mature convictions of the narrator: to prevent honest miscon- 
ception, and disarm malignant misrepresentations, he thinks 
it proper in this place, to explain these convictions with a dis- 
tinctness, which cannot readily be mistaken or mistated. 

In forming this class, the sole difficulty was created by the 
disproportion, between the number of students in the college of 
Columbia, who were desirous to be admitted into the class; and 
the number of pupils, which, (with a view to the fairness and 
success of the experiment,) it was eligible to receive. 

The class, however, was readily formed, and with one or 
two very melancholy exceptions, the narrator could scarcely 
have found in this, or probably in any other college, the same 
number of young persons more capable of acquiring, or more 
ambitious to acquire, knowledge of the principles, and skill in 
the exercise, of the noblest of the arts. 

He entered upon this course of lectures about the beginning: 
of March: it closed at the end of June. 

He delivered two lectures a week: each lecture usually oc- 
cupied the attention of the class intensely, from two to three 
hours.* 



* During- that period of his life, which was devoted to the profes- 
sional instruction of jouth; the narrator was impelled, " omni et imo 
corde," with ineffable disgust, scorn and horror, to abjure, (as perfectly 
as he possibly could,) all coercive and penal methods of exercising- scho- 
lastic authority, of communicating knowledge, and of influencing the 
minds of his pupils. 

U it 



lviii Supplementary Narrative, 

Nearly three hours every evening, (with the exception of 
Sundays,) were devoted to exercises in elocution. 

On Sunday forenoon, he spent an hour in instructing a small 
number of young men, (who intended to take orders,) to read 

He became indefatigably, and almost instinctively ingenious, in de- 
vising- methods and modes of teaching- " the young- idea how to shoot;" 
without shooting-, like teeth throug-h the g-ums, or corns in the toes — 
with PAIN. 

At the close of many, and of many abortive efforts, trials and ex- 
periments; he stumbled upon the following- mode of lecturing-; which 
he ventures to recommend, affectionately and most respectfully, to in- 
structors of youth; as the most delig-htful and efficient mode of com- 
municating- knowledg-e by lecture; of awakening- liberal curiosity, of 
attaching- the pupil to his instructor — of attaching- the pupil to know- 
ledg-e — of attaching- pupils to each other — of inducing-, and even com- 
pelling- the instructor, to analyze and dig-est the subject of his lecture — 
of enabling- the instructor to scan the disposition and capacity of his 
pupil — as the most delightful and efficient method of instructing youth 
by lecture, of which he has any knowledge. 

The following explanation of his mode of lecturing is addressed 
exclusively to teachers: he begs leave to request, that, before they 
condemn, they will do him, it and themselves, the justice, fairly to try it. 

On entering the lecture room, he laid upon the table a manuscript, 
containing a series of questions, the answers to which comprehended 
the substance of each successive lecture: These questions were tran- 
scribed, as expeditiously as possible, by every member of the class, 
into the blank-book with which they were furnished, for that purpose 
exclusively: When transcribed, he requested any member of the class, 
to read, in his place, the first question: — The question thus proposed; 
he rose, and answered, in a manner, which was, he trusts, generally, 
full, clear and impressive: It then became the duty of every member 
of the class, to prepare himself, as speedily as possible, to restate, 
aloud, and in his own language, the substance of the explanation: 
That due time might be afforded for this purpose, the lecture was sus- 
pended, until it was announced to the lecturer, by a member, that the 
whole class were thus prepared: — He then proposed the question to 
one, two, or, perhaps, three members, of the class, taken without selec- 
tion; who rose in their places successively, and restated the substance 



Supplementary Narrative, lix 

with propriety, one of the finest pieces of composition in any 
language, (but unless well read, intolerably tedious,) the English 
Episcopal service. 

On Wednesday evening, different portions of the class re- 
cited successively, select passages in prose and verse, from the 



of the explanation: If these restatements, were made with sufficient 
distinctness of thought and propriety of expression; he proceeded to 
the second question, and from the second to the third, through the 
whole series, until the lecture was concluded: the explanation con- 
nected with each question, passing* through the same preparatory pro- 
cess by the class, as the first: — But, if any member of the class, (when 
called on to restate the substance of an explanation,) exhibited evi- 
dence, that he had not perfectly comprehended it, the lecture wasfagain 
suspended, for a few minutes, until such member of the class obtained, 
from the lecturer, or from his class-fellows, a more distinct knowledge 
of the subject. 

When cases of this sort occurred, those members of the class, who, 
(from closer habits of attention, or greater quickness of apprehension,) 
had more readily and clearly seized an explanation, were urged to sti- 
mulate and aid the exertions of their companions. 

When the lecture, thus delivered, was finished; every member of 
the class was required to prepare a written answer to one of the ques- 
tions; which converted the explanations that composed the lecture, 
into a series of exercises in composition: These exercises were handed 
to the lecturer, when the class assembled to listen to the succeeding 
lecture, and as soon as they assembled. 

This mode of lecturing devolves upon the lecturer, the duty of de- 
livering his explanations, in the first instance, perspicuously and im- 
pressively: his ideas must be distinctly conveyed, and attention vividly 
awakened: Abstract reasoning must be embellished by imagery, and 
embodied by illustration: When it is requested by a majority of the 
class, an explanation, which, from its novelty or abstraction, may be 
difficult of comprehension; must be restated, again and again, by the 
lecturer; not reluctantly and impatiently, but eagerly and willingly, 
and with the liveliest desire, and the most strenuous and patient effort, 
to assist the student in comprehending the explanation. Whilst he 
exacts from every member of the class a steady and profound attention; 
the lecturer, in listening to the restatements, and revising the written 



lx Supplementary Narrative, 

works of eminent authors; in the presence of persons of both 
sexes, in Columbia, or in its vicinity, who felt an inclination, and 
found it convenient to attend. 

On these occasions, the college-chapel was thrown open: 
The audiences were always numerous and respectable, some- 
times crowded, even to overflowing: But their excessive and 
often injudicious plaudits, were rather unfavourable, than pro- 
pitious to the proficiency of his pupils, even in elocution. 

He well remembers, that during one of those evenings; a 
young gentleman of very promising talents, who recited with 

exercises, of the students; ought to manifest, not only a sincere and 
anxious desire for their improvement, but a punctilious and delicate 
attention to their feelings. 

This mode of lecturing-, devolves on every member of the class, the 
duty of giving-, (so far as the will can controul the vagrancy of thought,) 
his whole attention to the lecturer, during the delivery of the succes- 
sive explanations that compose the lecture: Of exerting all the energy 
of his mind to recover and reconnect the train of ideas; and to be able, 
when called on, to restate an explanation, to clothe his ideas in lan- 
guage, not only correct and perspicuous, but copious and elegant: 
Should an explanation seem to be unusually difficult, it will be the 
duty of the student to encounter it, with adequate spirit and perseve- 
rance; to invite the assistance of his fellow-students, and should his ut- 
most exertions, thus aided, be unsuccessful, to apply to the lecturer for 
re-explanation: — In every class, composed of twenty members; inequa- 
lities in capacity, intelligence and attainments, will inevitably exist: 
Some will apprehend more readily, conceive more distinctly, and ex- 
press their ideas with greater promptitude and brilliancy than others. 
Some will have been more fortunate than others, in the early excite- 
ment and development of their faculties. 

Young persons, who have any natural or acquired superiority of 
this kind, ought to regard the opportunity it affords, of assisting their 
class-fellows in the acquisition of knowledge; as the most precious pri- 
vilege, which such superiority confers. 

The pleasure of acquiring ought to be blended, as early and inti- 
mately as possible, with the more exquisite pleasure of communicating 
knowledge. These pleasures have an essential tendency to purify and 
exalt each other, fyc. 



Supplementary Narrative. lxi 

remarkable propriety, one of the finest passages of " Paradise 
Lost," was permitted to retire from the Rostrum, without a 
plaudit from his auditors; whilst a smart boy of twelve or four- 
teen years of age, extorted a thundering plaudit, by reciting 
Merrick's " Cameleon"* with uncommon vivacity. 

The presence of auditors during exhibitions of this sort, is 
highly eligible; but unless they can be prevailed on to listen 
without clapping, or are qualified to clap with discrimination, 
their presence is baleful. 

During these four months; so intense and sustained was the 
enthusiasm of the narrator, that although his health was shat- 
tered, his debility extreme, his appearance spectral, and his 
prospect of living twelve months desperate; he not only enjoyed 
habitual cheerfulness, but was exquisitely happy. 

Yet during this period, young reader! he suspended all so- 
cial intercourse; scarcely allowed himself half an hour in the 
day for exercise, and never retired to rest till the pen dropped 
from his hand, and his head sunk upon the table, from exhaustion 
of bodily and mental energy. 

Yet he was happy, young reader! exquisitely happy; Cesar 
at Pharsalia, Napoleon after the battle oi Marengo, Croesus 
surveying his hoarded treasures, might have envied the happi- 
ness which he enjoyed. Do you ask, why he was thus happy? Be- 
cause the better feelings and higher faculties of his nature were 
intensely excited, strenuously and steadily exerted. 

Make the experiment, young reader! (for nothing, I fear, 
but your own experience will impress a full and fruitful con- 
viction,) and you will be convinced, that the steady exertion of 



% The narrator suspected that this plaudit was injurious to the boy, 
on whom it was bestowed — so strong- was this impression, that, at his 
final exhibition in Columbia, he would not permit this boy to recite 
Collins' " Ode to the Passions;" althoug-h his father specially request- 
ed that he might recite the ode, and althoug-h the boy would have re- 
cited it, remarkably well. The narrator's reason for refusing- his per- 
mission was; because his father requested it, and because his son would 
have recited the ode, remarkably well. 



lxii Supplementary Narrative. 

the distinguishing faculties of human nature, (in a pursuit, 
really, or believed to be, useful to yourself and others,) is the 
only kind of pleasure, which is not pain in disguise; the only 
kind of pleasure that is not outweighed, merged and obliterated 
in the pain of which it is necessarily the cause; the only kind of 
pleasure that, 

" Brings to its sweetness no satiety." 

In addition to the Prospectus, previously referred to, the 
reader will find in the Appendix, an extract from the Card, in 
which the final examination and exhibitions of the class were 
announced: He will find also, the spontaneous testimonials of 
the Faculty and Trustees of the college, with regard to the re- 
sult of the first systematic effort, that has been made in the 
American republic; or any where else probably, in modern 
times, to promote the revival and cultivation of oratory. 

At the close of the final exhibition of the class in the college 
chapel; one of his pupils, (in the name of the class, and in a man- 
ner that gracefully testified his own sentiments and those of his 
friends and fellow-students,) presented the narrator with a gold 
medal; " As a token of their esteem and gratitude towards him, 
" for his unremitted attention, in promoting their improve- 
" ment." 

When he has since delivered orations from the Rostrum, 
this medal has been uniformly suspended around his neck, and 
proudly too. 

Having entered thus auspiciously, on the second stage in the 
prosecution of the design, which he had undertaken; he began 
to fix his eye steadily on the third, as it distinctly emerged 
above the edge of his widening horizon, and loomed and 
lowered, like the Alpine heights, when they first arrested the 
gaze of Hannibal. 

The stage to which he now so pompously adverts; was the 
establishment of efficient professorships of oratory in the Col- 
leges, and the erection of spacious and magnificent halls, (ex- 
clusively dedicated to the exercise and exhibition of oratory, on 
the Rostrum,) in the principal cities of the American republic. 



Supplementary Narrative, Ixiii 

The obvious and inevitable difficulties, incident to this stage 
in the progress of his career; " might startle well," but could 
not " astound," the soul of an adventurer, in the maturity of 
life; who had long been instructed and disciplined by the " lore 
of the stern and rugged nurse," and had, 

" ever" walked, " attended 
By a strong siding champion, conscience" 
Attended too, by " pure ey'd faith:'* 

an adventurer, whose path, (in all his devious and romantic 
wanderings,) had ever been lighted by the torch of the " prime 
cheerer," 

" white-handed hope, 
" The hovering angel, girt with golden wings." 

In his first struggle with these difficulties; the " strong-sid- 
ing champion" quailed — The " stern and rugged nurse," the 
" relentless power;" the " tamer of the human breast," re- 
sumed her " iron scourge;" inflicted pangs " unfelt before:" 
her victim tasted " of pain," and vainly groaned, unfiitied and 
alone.* 



* Having- quoted, more than once, Gray's " Ode to Adversity," the 
writer, (although he would assuredly deem it a sort of sacrilege, " to 
violate its dignity by slight censure,") cannot deny himself the pleasure 
of bestowing on it, the tribute of his unqualified and increasing admi- 
ration. 

This ode, may challenge comparison with any other human produc- 
tions of the same kind. It unites excellencies that are rarely exhi- 
bited, even separately, and still more rarely combined, in the same 
composition: philosophical profoundness of thought, moral sentiments 
the most pure and sublime, the persuasive energy of eloquence, and 
the overpowering enthusiasm of poetry. 

How admirably is the tendency, of adversity to humanize the heart, 
and establish habits of moderation, fortitude, self-command and self- 
denial, described! i 

How forcibly is the inexperienced and reckless favourite of fortune, 
warned against the indulgence of the habitual intoxication, which pros- 



lxiv Supplementary Narrative. 

For a season the " prime cheerer" ceased to cheer, the 
" hovering angel" folded her " golden wings." 

In his first struggle with these difficulties he was maimed, 
dismounted, discomfited, and wounded: nor has the wound yet 
ceased to bleed. 



perity has a tendency to excite! how entirely are the false colours, with 
which its sunshine gilds the scenes that surround him, effaced and dis- 
sipated! 

How distinctly is the line drawn, betwixt that sort of adversity that 
constitutes the school of virtue, and that which has been appointed by 
Heaven, as the scourge of guilt! 

With what solemnity and devotion, does the poet supplicate, for him- 
self and his fellow men, to be initiated in the school, and protected 
from the scourg-e, of adversity! 

In the tone and att'iude, of a commissioned minister of divine ven- 
geance: he denounces the inevitable and tormenting- punishments, by 
which prosperous g-uilt, and triumphant tyranny, are doomed to expi- 
ate their crimes: With the aspect, and in the accents, of a messenger 
from the skies, he unveils the ang-elic guard, (unseen by vulgar, invisi- 
ble to guilty eyes,) that watch over the safety, bind up the wounds, and 
temper the fortitude, of every virtuous victim of adversity. 

With what solemn energy! what harmony of numbers! what pictu- 
resque personification! what vivid allegorical painting! are these sub- 
lime sentiments embellished, and these inestimable lessons inculcated! 

In this ode, (if an allusion to classical mythology may be pardoned), 
sentiments, suggested by Minerva, are harmonized by the lyre of 
Apollo; and every Muse, save one, successively inspires the strains in 
which they are conveyed: Thalia alone, is motionless and mute: as she 
listens, with downcast eye, her countenance, for the moment, assumes 
an expression of reverence and awe. 

It is not on the susceptible feelings and undisciplined imagination 
of inexperienced youth, that the moral sublimity of this ode can be 
fully impressed; nor by its immature judgment, that its excellence can 
be adequately appreciated. This noble ode is a banquet for the 
meridian of our lives, and for the maturity of our powers. 

To a mind originally vigorous and virtuous; sufficiently cultivated 
by liberal education; invigorated, without being narrowed, by experi- 
ence; disciplined by the knowledge, without being hackneyed in the 



Supplementary Narrative, lxv 

He is quite aware, that he is expressing himself in language 
that will be distinctly understood only by one reader in a hun- 
dred, and expressing sensations which will awaken a vivid sym- 
pathy in the hearts of one only in a hundred readers, to whom 
this language will be clearly intelligible: yet this language is 
the idiosyncratic idiom, the spontaneous emanation of his feel- 
ings, and for the sake of the delicious sympathy of the few ex- 
isting, and the many unborn minds to which this language will 
be delicious, he cheerfully subjects himself to the scorn, and, 
(if it so pleases them,) to the neglect, or even to the curse, of 
the mob of readers. 

In plain language, he prepared two elaborate orations, for 
the purpose of illustrating the prospective benefits, that would 
result from the establishment of efficient professorships of ora- 
tory in the colleges; and from the erection of oratorial halls, in 
the principal cities of the United States. 

The first oration he had the honour of delivering, in the pre- 
sence of the legislature of South Carolina. 

Towards the close of his oration he distinctly intimated; 
that " if such a professorship were established in the college of 
South Carolina, with the annexation of a salary as ample as that 
which was attached to the presidency of the institution, and if he 
were unanimously invited by the legislature to fill the rhetori- 
cal chair; although he would be deeply and duly sensible of the 
honour conferred on him, it would be altogether incompatible 



ways, of the world, and inured to various vicissitudes of fortune; there 
is probably no poetical effusion, that will afford livelier, more elevated 
or unalloyed delight, than the " Ode to Adversity." 

The young- man, who can read it with enlightened admiration and 
unaffected rapture; exhibits no equivocal evidence, not only of correct 
and refined taste, hut of just moral sentiments. 

The man, in the maturity or decline of life, who can fully enjoy its 
beauty, must possess, what is more to be envied than cultivated taste; 
kl a conscience void of offence." 



Ixvi Supplementary Narrative. 

with his engagements and plans, to accept so flattering an invi- 
tation." 

The eligibility of such a Professorship was generally, he be- 
lieves unanimously, admitted, by the intelligent and patriotic 
members of the legislature: it was admitted too, that the narra- 
tor, (although he rose from a couch of debility and pain to de- 
liver this oration, and retired to a couch of greater debility and 
pain, after having delivered it,) had, on no former occasion, in 
South Carolina, spoken so impressively. 

In vain! The feelings of his respectable auditors, after vent- 
ing themselves in a loud and protracted plaudit, evaporated 
" into thin air.'* 

During his last visit to Charleston, he made two distinct 
efforts, in that city, to pave the way for the erection of a hall 
solemnly dedicated, and exclusively appropriated, to the public 
exhibition of oratory.* 

He invoked his respectable auditors, (with an earnestness 
almost importunate,) to reflect, " how nobly such an edifice 
would embellish the principal cities of the United States! how 
appropriately and how proudly, it would adorn and distinguish 
the metropolis of one of the amplest, fairest, and most fertile 
portions of a territory, over which " rulers reign under laws, 
their rulers!" 

" In the capitals of Europe," he added, " we behold i cloud- 
capt Towers, and gorgeous Palaces, and solemn Temples,' and 
Halls of Legislation, and Courts for the administration of justice, 
and Academies and Colleges for the instruction of youth, and 
Theatres for the display of dramatic genius and histrionic skill, 
and Repositories for the exhibition of specimens of the fine arts, 
and Museums in which are collected and preserved, all the cu- 
rious and anomalous productions of Nature's triple kingdom; 



* The term oratory is used, in preference to eloquence, because 
the former is admitted to include, whilst the latter (according- to its 
modern acceptation) does not include, an exertion of the powers of 
elocution. 



Supplementary Narrative, lxvii 

facilitating by disposition, and by exciting curiosity opening, 
the avenues of science." 

Glorious monuments these, of the progress of civilization; 
the best securities for its permanence; the most efficient means 
of extending its bloodless, beneficent, bliss-diffusing empire! 

In Europe, oratory alone, has neither an asylum nor an altar, 
neither resting place nor refuge! — Yet, 

" Her path where'er the Goddess roves, 

" Glory pursues and gen'rous shame, 

" The unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame."* 

" Alike she scorns the pomp of tyrant-power 

" And coward vice, that revels in her chains. 

" When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, 

** She sought, O Albion, next, thy sea-encircled coast!" 

* Surely the admirers of poetry, and of the quintessential and sub- 
limest kind of poetry, the Pindaric, might have indulged a hope that 
the stanza, (of which the closing 1 lines are here quoted,) would not only 
have escaped the cavilling- of the most fastidious, but have extorted a 
plaudit from the sternest and coldest critic. 

A succession of images, exquisitely picturesque and poetical, and 
embellished by every charm, which felicity of epithet, and harmony of 
numbers, can impart: a succession of images, inspired by the Muses, 
and attired by the Graces, closes with a sentiment, which Minerva 
might have prompted, and Urania approved. 

The " Heavenly Muse," in a form, 

" As glorious, 
" As is a winged messenger, from Heaven, 
" When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, 
" And sails upon the bosom of the air," 

is beheld descending from Heaven, (betwixt the equator and either 
pole,) to alleviate the 

" Ills that await, 
" Man's feeble race." 

Assuredly, no mortal, who can peruse this divine stanza, without in- 
dulging emotions ineffably rapturous; will ever experience alleviation 



Ixviii Supplementary Narrative. 

In Albion, insular Albion, she lingers yet: the vestige of her 
sandal'd foot is yet visible, her inspiring breath is yet felt! as 
her votary pauses and ponders, and weeps, over the monumen- 
tal marble, that enshrines all that is mortal, of Chatham, Burke, 
and Fox. 



from the " ills that flesh is heir to," from the inspiration of the hea- 
venly muse. 

Turn, good reader, with horror turn! to that page in the book 
which, per Antiphrasin, per Synechdochen, et per Catachresin, is 
ycleped " The Lives of the British Poets" — for, unless you read, un- 
less you have, as I now have, the evidence of your senses; you will 
not, you cannot, believe, that the Biographer of the British poets; one 
of the umpires on the tribunal of taste — has pronounced, (whilst sitting 
on this tribunal,) that this stanza describes, " well enough" the influ- 
ence of poetry. 

(i Poor human nature!" 

It is mournful — it is humiliating! 

It is the rare and regal privilege of intellects, like Johnson's, to 
stamp his opinion on the minds of millions: to assign to every candidate 
for literary honours, his rank in popular estimation, for ages, perhaps 
for ever. 

That such an intellect should thus abuse its privilege, is scarcely 
less revolting to the enlightened mind, than the venality of Demosthe- 
nes, or, the Caesaricide of Brutus. 

" Well enough!" The phrase almost immemorially appropriated to 
foster the first feeble efforts of a docile child, who has learnt to " lisp," 
before it attempts to interpret, or is qualified to understand, and of 
course, to admire, " Cicero the Orator." The phrase, in which the sul- 
len pedagogue, coldly and guardedly lauds the tasked exercises of ju- 
venile intellect: The " faint praise," by which the low-minded, envi- 
ous and consciously-eclipsed competitor for poetical glory, endeavours, 
vainly endeavours! to wither the " amaranthine wreath" that encir- 
cles a rival's brow: The reluctant eleemosynary dole of mercy, (more 
terrible than the keenest satire, more mortifying than the bitterest vi- 
tuperation); by which criticism gently consigns to oblivion, the abortive 
effusions of dullness and mediocrity, is here applied (by one of the 
idolized arbiters of poetical honours), to a stanza, that may challenge 
comparison with any other, ever written by mortal man: — 



Supplementary Narrative, lxix 

What American citizen can be insensible to the honour oi 
providing an asylum for so glorious an exile; a home for so il- 
lustrious a guest! Ever last to retreat, and ^m to re-appear, in 
the train of republican liberty. 



A stanza, in contemplating- which, the eye of the Theban Eagle 
would have blenched with admiration; " his plumes" would have 
" droop'd, and his wing- flag-g-'d," with conscious inferiority, with wil- 
ling- homag-e: A stanza, whose imag-ery the chisel and the pencil of 
Greece, would have emulously embodied: A stanza, closing- with an 
aspiration which, 

" Bright rapture soaring as she sings," 

wafts to Heaven — whjch every muse ratifies and re-echoes with ra- 
vishment — An aspiration which Urania hallows — which Nature in- 
spires, and " Nature's God" approves. 

That the arbiter of poetical merit, can be so far influenced by 
envy, by illiberality, by ig-norance, or by insensibility, as to pronounce, 
from the judgment-seat of criticism, such a sentence, on such a stan- 
za; is truly lamentable. 

Partiality and injustice, of this sort, have a tendency to shake the 
confidence of unphilosophical readers, in the authority of a tribunal, 
whose decisions are so irreconcilably adverse; not only to the delibe- 
rate judg-ments of uncultivated, but to the moral instincts of untutored, 
but susceptible minds: To countenance an opinion, that in matters of 
taste; natural unanalyzed, and unanalyzing- sensibility, is a safer g-uide, 
than the canons of criticism: — To warrant a presumption, that the 
beauties of poetry are of a nature too subtile to be susceptible of ana- 
lysis: that, like the finer elastic fluids, they are discernible and palpable 
only in their remote and combined effects, and, in their elementarity, 
elude alike the attention of the ordinary, and the ingenuity of the cu- 
rious, inquirer: To give currency, and even a specious sanction, to 
the pedant's aphorism, and the dunce's refuge — De gustibus nil dispu- 
tandum. 

With regard to the Truth of the sentiment, with which this glorious 
stanza closes, Doctor Johnson has obliquely insinuated a sceptical 
doubt, which not qnly deserves, but demands, more serious notice. 



lxx Supplementary Narrative, 

With what pride, would the American patriot, point out to 
the admiration of foreigners, an edifice so original in its design; 
so noble in its destination: an edifice of which none of the ca- 
pitals of Europe exhibit a model: an edifice truly American, 



It will be proper to quote his own words — " The opinion that poetry 
and virtue go together, fyc." 

This opinion is founded in Truth and Nature, and on this foundation 
the Heavenly Muse rests her " divine right," not to the admiration 
merely, but to the reverence and homage of mortals. 

All genuine poetry; all poetry that mends, whilst it melts the heart, 
that purifies, whilst it gratifies taste, that elevates, whilst it ravishes 
imagination; that, amidst every fluctuation and revolution in govern- 
ment, laws, customs, manners, opinions, tastes and fashions, preserves 
and displays an unimpaired and imperishable charm, is indissolubly 
wedded, and even identified, with VIRTUE. 

" The prime cheerer," Light, is not more essentially connected 
with genial heat: the prismatic colours with the solar ray. 

Political institutions are liable to infinite perversion, from the pro- 
fligate ambition, the narrow views, or from the conscientious errors 
of their founders. 

In systems of physics; sophistry, authority and eloquence, may 
spread over nations, and perpetuate, from age to age, a specious, but 
fallacious hypothesis, in place of a transcript of the truth of things; an 
evolution of the chain of cause and effect. 

But all genuine poetry, is in its essence, an effusion of feelings, of 
which every human heart, (however corrupted,) instinctively feels the 
justness: a development or illustration of principles, of which every 
understanding, (however sophisticated,) intuitively recognises the truth: 
a succession of imagery, of which every imagination, (however clouded 
or jaundiced,) necessarily reflects the outline: a narrative of events, of 
which individual experience, enables every human being, of sound 
mind, to perceive the verisimilitude, or to detect the improbability: Or 
an assemblage of fictitious characters, which can interest and affect, 
awaken and sustain curiosity and sympathy, delight or admiration, 
solely, from their analogy to the realities of nature. 

All genuine poetry, is conversant with subjects, that he within the 
sphere of conscience, instinct, intuition, personal experience and sym- 
pathy. 



Supplementary Narrative, lxxi 

worthy of a people who have recently achieved their indepen- 
dence, and established with a deliberation and concert, unpar- 
alleled in the annals of history, a republican government. 



Metrical harmony, figurative diction, are the body, not the soul; 
the wardrobe, not the armoury; the colouring-, not the substance, of 
poetry. 

Opinion, and art, and phantastic fashion, may improve and embel- 
lish, may disfigure and distort, (to an extent almost indefinite,) the ap- 
pearance and movements; but cannot change the symmetry, the com- 
plexion, the physiognomy, of the human " face and form divine." 

A form of government, or code of laws, may enslave, deprave and 
curse successive generations and aggregated millions, and their victims 
may be ignorant of the source, and of the correctives and remedies of 
the evils which they endure: They may even conscientiously admire 
and adore, revere and love, the very institutions! that make them use- 
less and unhappy, miserable in themselves, and hateful to each other. 

A " vain wisdom, and a false philosophy, with pleasing sorcery, 
may charm," for an indefinite length of time: may by an indefinite 
number of individuals, be unanimously accepted and accredited as im- 
mutable truth. 

But all genuine poetry is, in its essence, incorruptible, incoercible, 
incontaminable. 

A poetical sentiment, incident, image, or even expression, incon- 
sistent with truth and nature, or offensive to good taste; that has a ten- 
dency to stain the purity, or even to sully the lustre of virtue; to mask, 
or even to soften, the deformity of vice, excites instant suspicion, dis- 
gust and antipathy, and is obnoxious to speedy and inevitable, if not to 
immediate detection and reprobation. 

Error, in the shape of political institutions, laws and philosophical 
systems, (like an evil spirit, actually embodied in the material form of 
something that "lives and moves, and has its being on earth,") may walk, 
even at noon-day, and walk for ages, to and fro the world, unseen, and 
even unsuspected, by man or woman: But error and immorality, in the 
guise of Poetry, (like a harlot, who endeavours to mask age, disease or 
deformity, by splendid habiliments and a false complexion,) can escape 
detection, only under the shelter of darkness; in a light faint enough 
to make " darkness visible," or in the presence of the blind. 



Ixxii Supplementary Narrative, 

This oration, (in which the narrator attempted to illustrate 
at considerable length, the probable and practical utility of such 
an edifice,) was not ill-received. 



In its pictures of material and moral nature, Poetical resembles Ma- 
thematical truth. 

A poetical delineation of the character of man, of the passions of 
the human heart, of the many-coloured scenes of human life, or of the 
aspect, scenery and phenomena of external nature; felt and acknow- 
ledged to be faithful and affecting-, in one age, or in one nation, retains 
its power to charm, wherever the language in which it is written, shall 
he understood, and so long as human nature shall endure. 

Synthetical physics are constantly shifting, and the systems which 
are, at this time, most popular and authoritative, are perhaps fated, 
like their predecessors, to give place to more congruous concatena- 
tions of ideas, nearer approximations to the truth of things. 

The atoms of Epicurus, the Vortices of Des Cartes, the Monads 
of Leibnitz, and the transcendental curve of Buscovitch, are forgot- 
ten, or are remembered only as day-dreams and romance: But the de- 
monst^ations of Euclid, still impress undoubting conviction on every 
understanding that comprehends their evidence: " Transport, stilly 
storms the soul;" the " red current" still gushes, and will continue to 
gush, through the glowing arteries of every human creature, who has 
a soul, 



When, 



When, 



The great shepherd of the Mantuan plain, 
Rolls his deep majestic melody:" 



" Homer raises high to Heaven, 
" The loud, the impetuous song." 

As poetry, in its pictures of life and nature, resembles mathematical 
truth, in its simplicity and immutability: In embodying the forms of 
moral fiction, it claims a faint and remote affinity, to divine truth. 

When religion unveils the Arcana of the invisible world, it de- 
scribes a new and ever-during state of existence, in another and a 
better world; in which good and evil are distributed amongst immortal 
spirits, according to the " deeds done in the body." 



Supplementary Narrative, lxxiii 

Most of his auditors, as far as he could learn, (although in 
relation to this point, he might have been misinformed,) thought 
favourably of the scheme: A few, (Judge Johnstone particu- 



In that state of existence, (the best or the worst, to which man can 
look forward, according- to the "deeds done in the body:") In that 
eternal world, so consoling- prospectively to the votaries of piety and 
virtue, however baffled or unfortunate; so terrible to the impious and 
vicious, however prosperous and triumphant in their terrestrial pil- 
grimag-e; force, and fraud, and fortune, have no place: the claims of 
all are weig-hed in the balance of immutable justice, and each is re- 
warded or punished, according- to the quality and measure of his 
deserts. 

The moral fictions of poetry, (of all poetry that claims and com- 
mands immortal admiration; all poetry which will be more admired, as 
knowledge is more diffused,) exhibit a faint imag-e of the invisible 
world. 

In these g-lorious visions; the irreg-ular and seeming-ly capricious 
and iniquitous, distribution, or sortition rather, of g-ood and evil, is re- 
dressed: Virtue is crowned with g-lory, followed by reverence and love, 
and identified with happiness: Guilt is scourged by remorse, hunted 
and haunted by infamy, and identified with misery. 

In this faithful and truth-illumined mirror; virtue and vice are re- 
flected in their " true likeness;" divested of whatever can deface the 
loveliness of the one, or mask the deformity of the other. 

In this mirror; the glare which fortune, in real life, to undiscern- 
ing eyes, often sheds around on prosperous apostacy, triumphant crime, 
and successful imposture, vanishes: These imps of perdition, resemble 
" their sin and place of doom, obscure and foul." 

In this mirror, illumined by rays " unborrow'd of the sun," gene- 
rous and ingenuous youth, behold, 

" How awful goodness is;*' 
Behold! 

« Virtue, in her shape how LOVELY." 

So inseparably is all genuine poetry connected with virtue; that its 
power to affect the heart, or amuse imagination, essentially depends, 
upon the verisimilitude of the incidents it records, and of the imagery, 
scenes and characters, which it describes and portrays. 

yy 



Ixxiv Supplementary Narrative, 

larly,) expressed in decided terms their approbation, and their 
wish to see such a building erected. 

But the opinion, that it would be impracticable to carry this 
design into iminedijte effect, seemed to approach unanimity: 



Throughout the progress of this divine art; from the rhapsodies of 
rude minstrelsy, to the sublime and sustained strains of the epic and 
dramatic Muse, no poetical production, has ever been crowned with 
immortal admiration, has ever even obtained an extensive local popu- 
larity; in which the poet, has attempted to propagate immoral senti- 
ments, or, dared to blaspheme the divinity of virtue. 

A vivid and faithful delineation of whatever is sublime, beautiful, 
picturesque, pathetic, or, otherwise affecting, in material or moral na- 
ture; hallowed by the spirit of an unsullied and Christian Ethics, con- 
stitute the essence of poetry, and its title to the admiration of " Gods 
and god-like men." 

Verbal euphony, metrical skill, tasteful combination, congruous 
assemblage, lustre of imagery, felicity of allusion, beauty of expres- 
sion; are the drapery, the sensible form merely, in which; or the 
" bright and balmy" medium, through which, the inspirations of the 
Heavenly Muse, ravish the senses and the souls of mortals. 

But man is essentially, an imperfect and fallen being: The powers 
of genius are liable, (like every thing human,) to profanation, perver- 
sion and prostitution. 

Poetical embellishments; the richest, the most costly and tasteful, 
may be construprated to emblazon monstrous characters, and circulate 
immoral sentiments. 

Seduced by sin, which oft, 

" With attractive graces, wins, 
" The most averse;" — 

" Genius may conceive 
" A growing burthen:" 

" Prodigious motion feel, and rueful throes:" 

" The inbred enemy," 



May 



" Issue forth, brandishing a fatal dart, 
« Made to DESTROY." 



Supplementary Narrative. lxxv 

Nor did he converse with any one capable of divining, or even 
anxious to conjecture, at what period in time future, it would 
probably be practicable, to execute so novel a project. 



But it is the decree of God, that such monstrous productions, shall 

" With conscious terrors vex their authors round, 
" And rest or intermission — none THEY find." 

" From such terrors, good Lord, deliver us!" 

Such miscreated monster? of genius, (like every thing- else of di- 
vine origin,) are essentially immortal; but their immortality, like that 
of fallen and fiendish spirits, serves only to ensnare, corrupt and curse 
mankind. |lj 

Immoral sentiments and monstrous characters, embellished by poetry 
and eloquence, resemble the forbidden fruits of Eden; " fairer oft to 
fancy," more adapted " to quicken appetite," and more sweet, when 
plucked, to the taste; than the ripe, wholesome, unforbidden fruits, 
with which Paradise abounded. 

They resemble forbidden fruit too, in their evil nature: They tempt, 
only to seduce innocence into guilt, and ignorance into error. '■','{ 

Pray, ingenuous youth, of both sexes! pray to " Our Father who is 
in Heaven," that you may not be led into this " temptation." 

In that path, the arch-tempter lurks! — Shun, eschew it, therefore, 
m you deprecate, perdition. 

'Tis consoling, it is glorious, meanwhile; from the sunny summit of 
the Aonian mount; or from the solitary elevation, far, far above, the 
summit of that mount, to which, borne on " the seraph-wing of ecsta- 
sy," the bard of bards has soared; even, on the loftiest elevation, aspir- 
ing to a loftier elevation, till the " living throne! the sapphire blaze," 
" dark with excessive brightness," extinguished his mortal vision, but 
inward " planted eyes." 

It is consoling and glorious, even from the summit of the Aonian 
mount, (for Milton's adventurous flight we may not pursue!) to revert 
the " mind's eye," to the " Progress of Poetry." 

The august and memorable theatres, on which the votaries of the 
Heavenly Muse, have successively appeared. The " ever-new delight," 
and admiration, with which their inspired and inspiring songs are 
chanted, in every age and nation, which have emerged from barbarism, 
and in which man has asserted the dignity of his nature: The persecu- 



lxxvi Supplementary Narrative. 

The candid reader will be unwilling- to suspect, and the 
sober-minded reader will be unable to conceive, that at his time 
of life, (near fony years of age,) and with the opportunities he 
had enjoyed, of " knowing man as he is;" the narrator could 



tion, neglect, misfortunes and poverty, with which the guardians or 
Xi avengers of their native land," have been fated to struggle, during 
their lives: The vain honours that have been lavished, on the very- 
ground, beneath which their ashes reposed, even after their very ashes 
had vanished, or mingled with " inglorious dust:" — The posthumous re- 
verence; the emulous gratitude and love- T which have embalmed their 
memories; the noble rivalry with which imitative artists have contended, 
in stamping with fidelity, on canvass and on marble, the semblance of 
their faces, their forms, their costume, their very attitudes and gestures: 
the fond affection, the almost idolatrous admiration, with which even 
their colloquial sallies have been recorded and repeated: and all this, 
after, ages after! the communities, of which they had been members, were 
dispersed or exterminated; after the cities, in which they lived, were 
levelled with the dust, and their very dust had been scattered by all the 
winds of heaven; after the languages, in which they sung, lived only in 
their works: — Their glorious, often, for a season, successful; but, alas! 
far oftener, unavailing struggles, to teach the " age to quit their clogs," 
to watch the vestal flame, guard the palladium, and preserve from sub- 
version and decay, the principles and the spirit of LIBERTY: — The 
inconsolable sorrow, with which they have " tolled the knell," and be& 
held the " parting day" of republican freedom, (as the inhabitant of 
the polar zone beholds the semi-annual disappearance of solar light): 
The " glad hosannahs," with which they have hailed her re-ascension, 
and commemorated her triumphs; the generous devotion, the " noble 
rage," with which they have extolled her champions, denounced her 
foes, and anathematized her apostates: — The self-denial, the self-immo- 
lation, the self-oblivion, with which they have bent their willing knees, 
and often magnanimously bowed their necks, and laid their noble 
heads, on the altar of justice: — The inflexible and incorruptible inte- 
grity, the indomitable fortitude, the chivalric courage, with which; 
amidst every vicissitude of fortune, every crisis or portent of fate; they 
have consigned the apostles of truth, and the ministers of justice, to 
the reverence; and their apostates, traitors and betrayers, to the exe- 



Supplementary Narrative, lxxvii 

have suffered his mind to be so heated by romantic enthusiasm, 
as to have experienced keen and enduring anguish, from the 
frustration of his efforts to accomplish this design, in the me- 
tropolis of South Carolina. 



cration, of' mankind. THESE are the causes, THIS is the attraction! 
which, like the polarity of the magnet, " turns" the enthusiasm of the 
Pindaric poet, and drew the genius of a greater than Pindar, to the 
« Progress of Poetry." 

" Yes! her path, where'er the goddess roves, 

" Glory," does pursue, " and generous shame, 

" Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holv flame;" 

And the wretch, whose soul responds not to the apostrophe, had better 
never been born — may gratefully drain oblivion's most lethargic potion 
to the dregs — and think himself happy to hide his ignominious head, 
in her " deepest" and darkest " grave." 

The writer averts his attention from this captivating theme with re- 
luctance. It is indeed consoling and delightful, to all the better and 
nobler feelings of our nature, to contemplate " The Progress of 
Poetry." 

The glorious band of bards, triumphant over time, and invulnerable 
by death; embodied in forms of celestial brightness, and ethereal pu- 
rity; crowned with amaranth, and glowing with the health of angels, 
pass in review before us. 

The vast intervals of time and space, that intervened between the 
place and periods of their mortal career, seem to vanish. 

Whatever elevated Homer, or Milton; Eschylus or Shakspeare; 
Pindar or Gray; Lucan or Glover; Lucretius or Akenside, above the 
level of mortality, yet lives and flourishes, and will live and flourish, 
till the 

" Stars shall fade away." 

To Them, the pangs of death were but the throes, that gave birth to 
a new and perennial life, even on this side the grave. 

Having " shuffled off this mortal coil;" they ceased to " live, and 
move, and have their being," in corruptible matter. 

Endowed with the privileges, and embodied in the shape, of mor- 
tals; they mingle, henceforth, with the tutelary Genii, that watch over 



Ixxviii Supplementary Narrative. 

So prone, however, are minds of a certain temperament, (in 
spite of the " iore," the " iron scourge," the " torturing hour," 
of adversity,) to indulge sanguine hope, and overlook inevitable 
difficulties; that this disappointment was followed by agony as 



the destinies of nations: The guardian spirits! that prompt the inspira- 
tions of genius, and execute the decrees of justice. 

They become the inhabitants of every country, and the contempo- 
raries of every age:— They are viewed, as companions in the career of 
glory, competitors for the admiration of all succeeding ages. 

Unseen! their presence is every where recognized: Unheard! thej 
incessantly instruct, expostulate, warn and enlighten. 

At the same moment, they commune with innumerable minds, in 
every language, spoken by civilized man: In solitary contemplation, in 
the social circle, in legislative halls and academic bowers, they are 
ever at hand, to second the councils of wisdom, the lessons of experi- 
ence, and the voice of conscience. 

In reviewing the " Progress of Poetry," the nature of man and the 
world he inhabits, are beheld under their most attractive attitudes and 
aspects. 

Our attention is attracted and fixed only, on the eras and regions, 
which haye been rendered memorable by illustrious characters; by 
grand achievements; by progressive civilization; by the ascendancy of 
justice; by the triumphs of freedom. 

We willingly forget, that in comparison with the extent of the ter- 
raqueous globe, these regions, are but points: That, in the succession 
of ages, these eras, are but moments. 

We gladly forget, (blessed oblivion! if it be but for a moment;) the 
immense majority of human beings, who have been doomed to perish 
in the apathy and impotence of barbarism; to groan and grovel under 
the yoke of arbitrary power; to bleed in the battles of ambition, or to 
prostrate their souls and bodies, before the altars of a bloody and infer- 
nal superstition. 

We forget all this — Blessed Oblivion, if it be but for a moment! 

In reviewing the " Progress of Poetry;" we, contemplate, with re- 
verence, the dignity of human nature, and proudly feel, 

" That not in humble, nor in brief delight, 

M Not in the fleeting echoes of renown, 

" Power's purple robe, or pleasure's flowing lap, 



Supplementary Narrative* lxxix 

exquisite and protracted, as he ever remembers to have en- 
dured. 

In a city, in which, (during four successive visits,) he had ex- 
perienced every public and private attention, which hospitality, 



" The SOUL, can find enjoyment: but from these, 
" Turns disdainful to an equal good." 

And exclaim, with heart-felt exultation, 

" Her path, where'er the goddess roves, 

" Glory pursues, and generous shame, 

" Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame." 

When apostate bards; the scoffers at religion; the blasphemers of 
truth; the betrayers of innocence; the violators of virtue; the traitors 
of justice; the catamites of venality; the foes of freedom, and the 
fiends of faction — 

The apostate bards! who, 

" Are damn'd to everlasting fame:" 

Who, 

" What to oblivion better were consigned, 

" Have hung- on high, to poison half mankind:" 

When fallen and apostate bards, survey the g-lorious band, from whose 
communion, they are divorced for ever: — What must be their torments. 
The bard of bards, has described their torments. — Even in the pre- 
sence of the " least" of these, they feel their impotence, 

" Champ their iron curb," 
and 

" Pine their loss." 

Pindar, (Peter, I mean,) Moore, Byron! — " You execute justice — you 
punish yourselves." You are not suicides — you cannot die — but im- 
mortality is your curse — abhorred self-tormentors. 

Nor can the writer close this note, without adverting to Johnson's 
stricture on the first stanza of this g-lorious ode. 

He observes " that, although willing to be pleased, he was unable 
to find the meaning- of the first stanza," and adds, " that Gray seems, 



lxxx Supplementary Narrative. 

urbanity, kindness, and even friendship, could bestow; he in- 
dulged for many weeks a sullen misanthropy, an unsocial se- 
clusion, a stern reserve. 

in his rapture, to confound the images of spreading- sound and running- 
water." 

The reader is requested, if he does not recollect, to turn to this 
stanza. 

The springs of Helicon, (according to the fine illusions of classical 
mythology,) were conceived, not merely to slake thirst, but to infuse 
poetical inspiration. 

Nothing is more usual in poetry, (or more essential to the vivacity 
of its diction, to the dictinctness, lustre and beauty of its imagery,) 
than the application of epithets to a cause, which are in fact, descrip- 
tive of its most striking effects. 

The poetical nomenclature abounds with terms of this sort, the dis- 
use or abolition of which, would annihilate whatever essentially dis- 
criminates prose from verse, or poetry from philosophy. 

They constitute, not the wardrobe merely; but the " purple light," 
the " celestial rosy red," of poetical health and beauty; the nectar and 
ambrosia of its immortal health, and unfading beauty: without the 
use of these epithets, the genius of Shakspeare, would be 

" A naked, wandering, melancholy ghost." 

" A stream of music," Johnson adds, " may be allowed" — (and 
seems perfectly unconscious that, in allowing this, he admits the pro- 
priety of the very imagery, which he stigmatizes as nonsensical) — 
" But where does music, however smooth and strong, after having vi- 
sited the verdant vales, roll down the steep amain, whilst rocks and 
nodding groves rebellow to its roar: If this be said of music, it is non- 
sense: if it be said of water, it is nothing to the purpose." 

It is dangerous for dictators to assign reasons for their dicta. 

Music and poetry are so intimately connected; so much of the 
charm, and even pathos, of poetical diction, depends upon euphony; 
that almost every term, peculiarly expressive of musical qualities, are, 
even in common language, applied to poetry. 

It is usual to speak of melodious and harmonious numbers, as of me- 
lodious and harmonious airs. 



Supplementary Narrative. Ixxxi 

He recollects his feelings and his behaviour on this occasion, 
with shame and sorrow: He can offer no adequate apology, un- 
less he is allowed to use a phrase; which although it belongs to 
the dialect of the nursery, has a deeper import than many a 
pompous apothegm or sapient aphorism—" He could not 
help it.*" 



If then, a stream of music be allowed, it will be allowed also, to be 
a stream from the fountains of Helicon; and as the water of Helicon, 
although it possesses the extraordinary power of imparting- poetical in- 
spiration, does not, on that account, lose the ordinary properties of that 
fluid; the peculiar qualities of the different species of poetry, may be 
appropriately shadowed and allegorised, by tbe vicissitudes of running- 
water: at one time gliding in a deep and silent current; at another me- 
andering and murmuring through verdant vales, and anon, descending 
in foaming torrents from the giddy steep, amid the mingled echoes of 
mountain, grove, and vale. 

* Whilst the narrator was involuntarily indulging these morbid feel- 
ings, he adopted a. mode of testifying the sentiments he really felt, and 
ought to have manifested; which had a tendency, he hopes, to oblite- 
rate any unkind impressions which the behaviour, prompted by these 
feelings, might have left. 

In witnessing a public examination of young ladies in G eography 
and Grammar; he was forcibly struck by the injudicious, circuitous, 
and inefficient method, in which these important branches of elementary 
literature were taught. 

Finding that the methods of teaching, which he deemed so injudi- 
cious, were very generally adopted and approved; he suddenly formed 
the idea of exposing their defects and positive inefficiency experimen- 
tally. 

He accordingly announced from the Rostrum, his willingness to in- 
struct a class of young ladies, (not exceeding twelve in number, and 
from ten to twelve years of age,) for one month: giving the class his at- 
tention for one hour, three days of every week during that period: He 
undertook to impart, in that time, more knowledge of Geography and 
Grammar, than (according to the methods generally followed,) they 
did acquire in twelve months. 

The class was readily formed, and he accomplished what he had un- 
dertaken. 



1 



Ixxxii Supplementary Narrative, 

He could not, meanwhile, have exhibited a more marked 
or unequivocal evidence of his respect for Charleston, and for 
the public spirit, intelligence, and taste of its inhabitants; 
than by making his first deliberate effort to accomplish this 
design, in that city. 



At the expiration of the month, the class were examined in the pre- 
sence of a small, but select audience. The only gentleman present, 
who had any practical experience in the business of education, (Mitchil 
King", esq. of Charleston,) communicated to the public his opinion of 
the result of this experiment, through the medium of a public gazette. 

As the narrator proposes hereafter to repeat this experiment, on a 
more extended scale: the article to which he now refers, is re-published 
in the appendix to this volume. 

The method of instruction which he adopted in teaching Geogra- 
phy and Grammar, may be employed still more advantageously in teach- 
ing Logic, Ethics and Elocution; and when he repeats this experiment, 
he proposes to extend the application of the method. 

In teaching Grammar, he was lei to consider, with some attention, 
one of the few questions in philololgy, which the unrivalled sagacity 
and industry of John Home Tooke have not settled and explained; in 
a manner, which must be satisfactory to every intelligent person, who 
peruses the "Diversions of Purley," with the impartiality and attention, 
(to which, from the originality, profoundness, and value of its contents) 
it has so peculiar a claim. 

It is deeply to be lamented that the night of death, closed upon all 
that was mortal of this truly great, (but unfortunate and probably unhap- 
py) man; before he gave to the world his promised analysis, of that part 
of speech, which is by way of eminence called the Verb. 

With a deference and diffidence wholly unaffected, the following 
account of this "part of speech" is subjoined. The juvenile reader will 
find something better than idle amusement, in detecting its faUacy and 
incompleteness. 

-The verb is that part of speech, by which we declare the existence 
of the various subjects of consciousness; the existence of whatever we 
feel within the sentient, or perceive without the percipient being. 

In such declaration, affirmation, assertion, (call it what you will,) 
verbality essentially consists. 



Supplementary Narrative. Ixxxiii 

Sanguine as his hopes were, he had not however, entirely 
forgotten the motto which he adopted, when he undertook his 
oratorical enterprise, Utrinque fiarutus. 

He closed this oration therefore by observing; that " with 
his present decided and mature conviction of the utility of this 



Tense, mood, person, number, voice; are mere adjuncts of the 
Verb. 

Make any word the medium of affirmation or declaration, and it be- 
comes a Verb. 

A preposition, for instance — the preposition "near." "He neart 
" the isle, and lo!" 

An adjective, "equal." — Two equals two. 

A proper name. — "Sternhold." 

Sternhold himself he outsternholded. Reverse this process. Ab- 
ttract the property of declaring- or affirming-, and the verb vanishes; or 
verbality is transferred to the word that has this property — "James loves 
Ann." 

"Loves" is a verb. Change the form of expression — 
James, makes love to Ann. 
James, is in love with Ann. 
James, feels love for Ann. 

And in each of the three instances, whilst the word love, ceases to 
be a verb; the words makes, is, feels, become verbs. 

It will be easy, however, to divest each of the three, except "is," of 
its privilege. We have only to say — James is, was, or will be, making 
love to Ann — or James is, was, may, can, might, could, would, or should 
be, feeling love for Ann — and makes and feels, not only resign their ver- 
bality; but it is transferred and pertinaciously adheres, to the monosyl- 
labic auxiliaries, which, whether by right or usurpation, defy every at- 
tempt to divest them of this privilege. 

Good angels, guard us! we are on the very verge of a bog; deeper 
and vaster far, than that "between Damietta and Mount Casius Old." 

Beware, young reader! Retreat and run; mightier minds than yours 
«r mine, he buried in that bog. 

Chase butterflies: anatomise insects: classify and designate plants: 
analyze minerals: "sigh for an Otho." As Burke has observed, there 
is "no knowledge which is not useful." 

But shun Transcendant Ontology. Beware of "Ens quatenus ens" — 



Ixxxiv Supplementary Narrative. 

design; of the probable subserviency of such an edifice, in ac- 
complishing purposes the most beneficent, the failure of his 
efforts here^ will only prompt a more strenuous effort to carry 
it into effect, elsewhere. 

If I fail here, I cannot sleep sweetly, while any effort within 
the compass of my power, remains untried, to accomplish this 
design, elsewhere. 

If I fail here and die: The accomplishment of this design 
will devolve on some more fortunate successor in the career of 
glory, on whose Arena death shall arrest me, and with whose 
glorious dust, my ashes shall be mingled.'* 



'Tis sound without sense, 
Or, that very common sense, 
Y'clep'd NONSENSE. 

If Mr. Taylor of Caroline county, Virginia; or Mr. Corea, or any 
other learned person, when they amuse themselves and others, by 
laughing- at Metaphysics, mean, (and they probably do mean,) ontology; 
they could scarcely select a more appropriate or fruitful subject for jo- 
cularity and ridicule. As to what they, or any other persons, (learned 
or unlearned,) may think or say of metaphysics, in its proper accepta- 
tion; it is of consequence only, as it respects their own reputation for 
good sense and science. 

But to return to the verb. If, then, by imparting to any word, the 
property of declaring or affirming, such word becomes a verb; and if, 
by abstracting this property from any word, it ceases to be a verb, it 
would seem to follow, a priori and a posteriori, by induction and analy- 
sis, by analysis and synthesis, that this property is the essence or quint- 
essence of the verb. 

Young reader! if this explanation be fallacious, detect the fallacy: 
expose it: denounce it. The pedantic jargon in which it is clothed de- 
serves all your derision and scorn. But think on this subject: I pray you 
tiiink; and if you have not already perused and studied, I pray you also 
to peruse and study Priestley's Introduction to English Grammar; Adam 
Smith's Essay on the Formation of Languages; Tooke's Diversions of 
Purley, and Richardson's Anatomy of the S}^syphian labours of Sa- 
muel Johnson, whose dictionary has every property of an Egyptian 
pyramid except its durability. 



Supplementary Narrative. lxxxr 

But he is not yet dead, and has not, therefore, yet relin- 
quished this design. 

Impressed as his mind is with a firm and decided con- 
viction, that the erection of spacious and magnificent halls, in 
the principal cities of the American republic; (solemnly dedi- 
cated and exclusively appropriated to the exhibition of oratory,) 
would not only contribute to promote the revival and cultiva- 
tion, but to check the licentious and factious abuse, and en- 
courage the liberal and beneficent use, of the noblest of the 
arts: give dignity, permanence, attraction, and even popularity, 
to an amusement; incomparably the most rational, moral, and 
delightful, that has ever heretofore invited public attention: pro- 
vide a theatre, (and open an avenue, through which it may be 
accessible to every duly qualified competitor for the honours of 
the Rostrum,) on which every variety of talent, for moral ana- 
lysis, rhetorical declamation, pathos, wit, humour, or ridicule; 
every endowment of nature, or accomplishment of education, 
may be displayed through the medium of oratory, with the most 
brilliant effect, and for the most beneficial purposes: introduce, 
and auspicate the introduction, of an amusement, congenial to 
the spirit of an enlightened age, and to the liberal curiosity, 
the awakened intellect, and diffused intelligence of a free people: 
an amusement not sensual and spectacular, but tasteful and in- 
tellectual, not exotic, but indigenous; the spontaneous growth 
of the tree of knowledge, not reared in the hot-bed of titled 
patronage, but expanding its branches, and ripening its blessed 
fruits, under the genial influence' of an intelligent public; under 
the solar effulgence of an enlightened public opinion: an 
amusement, that claims and asserts its immemorially vacant 
and legitimate place, between the philosophical lecture-room, 
and the theatre, and is capable of blending the solid instruction 
and salutary lessons of the former, with whatever is innocently 
and morally attractive; with whatever is truly valuable and de- 
lightful in the latter: an amusement, which when it strikes 
root, and begins to approach the perfection to which it aspires, 
will exercise a tutelary and censorial controul over the style 
and manner of public-speaking, in every profession or pursuit, 
that calls for the constant or occasional exhibition of oratorical 



Ixxxvi Supplementary Narrative, 

skill: an amusement which, in its progressive advancement to- 
wards perfection; will be the auxiliary, not the adversary, the 
cordial eulogist, not the jealous rival; the munificent patron, 
the willing instrument, and zealous advocate, of every institu- 
tion, accomplishment, art, or science, that ministers immedi- 
ately or remotely to social happiness, to moral and intellectual 
improvement: 

Cherishing an unshaken conviction, fortified by a personal 
experience of six years, devoted to the exhibition of oratory on 
the Rostrum: under circumstances too, that not only discouraged 
every hope, but precluded even the possibility of success, by 
any means or influence, except the intrinsic value and attrac- 
tions of this species of amusement. 

Cherishing a conviction, thus fortified and matured, that 
the erection of spacious and magnificent halls in the principal 
cities of the United States, for the public exhibition of oratory, 
would give " a local habitation and a name," an enduring habi- 
tation and an immortal name! to the ROSTRUM: would esta- 
blish in the American republic a species of oratory indigenously 
American, and essentially republican, he would feel that he 
was not obnoxious to the charge of inglorious indolence, and 
wanton inconsistency, but of pusillanimous apostacy, and a base 
desertion of his post; if he did not, previous to his departure 
from the United States, strain every nerve, invoke the aid of 
every auxiliary, and employ every honourable means within 
the compass of his power, to provide an asylum for an exile, a 
home for a wanderer, 

" Whose path, where'er" she " roves, 

Glory pursues and generous shame, 

The unconquerable mind and freedom's holy flame." 

Far, therefore, from having abandoned, he will speedily 
renew, (and with added earnestness and energy,) his efforts to 
accomplish this design. 

Previous to his departure from the United States, in the be- 
ginning of the succeeding year; he proposes to pay short and 



Supplementary Narrative, Ixxxvfi 

parting visits to the cities of New-York, Boston, Baltimore, and 
the city of Washington. 

In each of these cities, he will endeavour, (in a discourse 
which will be delivered gratuitously, in the presence of as many 
intelligent and respectable persons, as may do him the honour to 
listen to it,) to impart a persuasion, how appropriately, and how 
nobly, such edifices would embellish the capitals of indepen- 
dent and confederated states, and to how many beneficent pur- 
poses, such edifices would become subservient. 

He would gladly make a similar effort in Philadelphia; but 
an assured presentiment of discomfiture, disarms and appals 
him. 

The difficulty, or even the danger, of accomplishing an ob- 
ject which is, or is believed to be, grand and beneficent; serves 
only and ought only to try courage, to task fortitude, and fire 
enthusiasm; " To collect the soul and call forth all its power." 

But where discomfiture is certain, even courage quails: 
where exertion is hopeless, even fortitude is paralized: where 
success is impossible, even enthusiasm expires. 

Nor does he yet despair of accomplishing this design in the 
metropolis of South Carolina. He proposes to sail from 
Charleston, to a British port, and previous to his voyage, to 
make another, a more seasonable, and he dares to hope, a more 
successful appeal to the patriotism and public spirit of a city; so 
endeared to every respectable stranger by whom it has ever 
been visited; so honourably distinguished for its taste, intelli- 
gence, liberality; for its elegant and unbartered hospitality. 

IVfeanwhile, to accomplish this design; to succeed any where; 
is no part of his duty: But he feels it to be emphatically his 
duty, to leave no honourable, no possible effort, unexerted; no 
probable means unemployed, to secure and " deserve" success. 

Nor is past, and even recent experience, altogether dis- 
couraging. 

He recollects with delight, and delights to record, the unso- 
licited countenance of one distinguished citizen of South Caro- 
lina; whose conduct alone, (if he had no other motive,) would 
encourage him to persevere. 



lxxxviii Supplementary Narrative. 

He will, he fears, wound the delicacy of general Hampton 
by stating, (what in a narrative of this sort, he thinks and feels, 
that it would be improper not to state;) that this gentleman, in a 
manner the most noble and unaffected, offered to supply the 
funds necessary for the establishment of an independent profes- 
sorship of oratory in Columbia, on any plan which the narrator 
might deem most eligible, and on the sole condition, that he 
would undertake to discharge its duties. 

Nor was this all — After listening to an explanation of the 
narrator's view of the advantages likely to result from the erec- 
tion of Oratorical Halls; and being apprised of his intention to 
make an effort to accomplish this design in Charleston; Gene- 
ral Hampton authorised his acquaintance, Mr. Adam Tunno, 
if a subscription for erecting such an edifice should be set on 
foot in that city, to subscribe, in his name, as large a sum as 
might be subscribed by any citizen of Charleston. 

In stating this fact, it is proper also to add, that the narra- 
tor had no shadow of claim, on the score of friendship, or previ- 
ous acquaintance, on general Hampton, and when he visited 
Columbia, (in the vicinity of which the general has a seat,) had 
not even the pleasure of being introduced to him by letter, or 
otherwise. 

General Hampton's conduct in this instance, could be go- 
verned only by that public spirit, and active beneficence; which 
he has manifested more promptly and variously, than any other 
individual with whom the narrator has had the happiness to have 
any intercourse, in the course of his life. 

When the " supcrflux" of that opulence, which, in the de- 
cline of years, crowns the exertion of indefatigable industry and 
sagacious enterprise, during the maturity of life, is thus appro- 
priated; whatever is invidious to the vulgar, or revolting to the 
enlightened mind, in the spectacle of accumulated wealth, 
vanishes in the brightness that beams around its beneficent 
dispenser. 

Were the opulent, (or even any considerable number of the 
opulent,) thus to appropriate superfluous wealth, the unsuc- 



Supplementary Narrative, lxxxix 

eessful or the less successful competitor, would cease to envy 
his more fortunate, or, more sagacious rival in the race: indi- 
gence, and misfortune would cease to murmur, at the appa- 
rently unequal distribution of the goods of fortune; which are 
goods or evils to the possessor, or to others, only, according to 
the motives and mode of their appropriation. 

The actual good, however permanent and extensive, that 
may be done by such an appropriation of superfluous opulence, 
may be estimated and even calculated: but the benefit which 
the public and posterity reap from such an example, is inesti- 
mable and incalculable. 

If the opulent, (or any considerable number of the opulent,) 
in any civilized community, were to feel and manifest the dis- 
position, which General Hampton has felt and manifested; not 
only in the instance referred to, but in many others, of which 
the narrator has been the witness, the agent, or the object; the 
execution of any scheme of solid and acknowledged public 
utility, (however new or even romantic,) would be practicable 
even by the most indigent, and previously obscure and insigni- 
ficant individual, who might conceive, propose, and unfold it. 

Thus aided, an individual possessing only the limited and 
humble powers of the narrator, might execute an enterprise; in 
the attempt to achieve which, an adventurer who united the 
philanthropy of Howard, the eloquence of Cicero, the perseve- 
rance of Clarkson or Lancaster, the fortitude of Trenck, the 
address of Marlborough, and the moral energy of Tooke, might 
(without this ally), vainly exert and exhaust this aggregation of 
accomplishments. 

Were any considerable number of the opulent, disposed 
thus to appropriate wealth: there would exist in the commu- 
nity of which they were members, for carrying into effect 
every design useful to the public, a fund more vast in amount, 
and more readily accessible, than the lawless lord of a mighty 
empire, could wring by exaction from impoverished and op- 
pressed millions. 

Were any, even inconsiderable number of the opulent, 
thus disposed to appropriate the " superflux of wealth," that 

3 A 



xc Supplementary Narrative, 

" superflux" which is usually transmuted into toys, or consumed 
and evaporated, (annihilated, would be a more correct expres- 
sion,) in fashionable expense: The narrator would indulge the 
delightful day-dream of beholding, before the earth shall ac- 
complish two of her annual revolutions, in the principal cities 
of the American republic, temples dedicated to the noblest of 
the arts: Temples, dedicated to the Genius of Oratory, lifting 
their " starry pointing" spires to heaven, embellished with all 
the pride of architecture, perfumed with botanical odours, em- 
bosomed in groves of laurel, and arresting, by their sublime 
destination and rival grandeur, the homage and admiration of 
Transatlantic strangers! 

The narrator, has in a previous part of this narrative, ex- 
pressed unqualified contempt for unmeaning compliment: for 
idle or interested adulation. What he has now written, he 
intends as compliment and eulogy. He avows this intention: 
He does admire and love the features in general Hampton's 
character to which he now adverts: He avows this admiration 
and love: If what he has said be compliment, it is also fact: 
It is the debt of gratitude, and he delights to pay it: It is the 
effusion of genuine feeling, and he pours it forth not only freely 
but with pride: From misconstruction of motive, his character 
protects him: He would not, if he could, disabuse the wretch, 
who can misconstrue the motive, which dictates what he has 
said on this occasion. 

In the prosecution of the design which he has undertaken 
there is a fourth stage; but it is altogether prospective: He can 
neither live to accomplish, nor even to witness its accomplish- 
ment: But it will be accomplished by his successors in this 
glorious career, and to them he consigns it. 

He refers to the formation, in every part of the civilized 
world, especially in the regions which have been populated and 
civilized by the Magna Virum Mater, and above all, in the 
American republic: The formation of a fraternal band of youth- 
ful orators, trained by the " rigid lore of the stern and rugged 
nurse;" inured by the discipline of moral and metaphysical 
analysis to the use of the truth-tempered weapons of oratory, 



Supplementary Narrative. xci 

(ponderous as well as missile;) practised in all the arts of phi- 
losophical rhetoric, and initiated in all the forgotten, and yet un- 
discovered mysteries of elocution; with minds enlightened by 
the beams of every science, a conscience guarded and guided 
by religious faith, and characters and manners formed and 
finished by social intercourse, by personal experience in the 
ways of the world, and a practical knowledge of " man as he is,*' 
and of the existing state of society: 

The formation of a band of orators, spurning the " Auri sacra 
fames;" trampling on every degenerate and ignoble passion: Im- 
pelled and inspired in the race of glory, by the Amor patriae, 
and the laudum immensa cupido: 

In yon bright cloud that fires the western sky, 
What glorious scenes to hope's enraptur'd eye. 
Descending stow their glittering skirts unrol: 
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! 
Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul! 

To have advanced thus far in the prosecution of a design, 
which could have been achieved and prosecuted thus far only, 
in the American republic; is fame and felicity enough for the 
narrator. Let him but live, and possess a sufficient share of 
health and mental energy, to avail himself of an auspicious 
season, to vindicate the nascent glory of the Rostrum, in Lon- 
don, Edinburgh, and Dublin — Let him but accomplish this! 
and fixing — 

" A last, lingering look," 

on the boundless Arena; as the youthful competitors for glory 
begin to throng its avenues, and intelligent auditors and spec- 
tators, are beheld advancing in every direction along the vast 
and ever-expanding area that " enrounds" the Rostrum. — Let 
him but accomplish This! and gaze for a moment on so glo- 
rious a spectacle! and he will be ready and willing to exclaim, 

" Now let me die!" 



TO THE CANDID READER. 



In a prospectus of the contents of this volume, (which 
has been extensively circulated by the polite and friendly 
attention of the editors of gazettes throughout the United 
States, and which will be found in the Appendix:) the 
writer intimated his intention of subjoining to the Essays, 
passages from the orations, and a few of the specimens of 
criticism; which he has pronounced from the Rostrum. 

When, however, he came to transcribe and revise his 
Essays for the press, he found himself, (as the work ad- 
vanced,) reduced to the alternative; of giving a very incon- 
venient size to the volume, or of contracting the limits of 
the original design. 

Thus circumstanced, he deemed it most expedient, to 
narrow the extent of his plan. 

Passages from his orations; specimens of criticism, and 
the " Essay on the Theory and Use of Moral Fiction," do 
not therefore, make their appearance in this volume. 

He has been governed in this instance, by other mo- 
tives. 

The length of time which has been required to revise 
and transcribe the contents of this volume for the press, (a 
considerable part of the text, and nearly all the notes, hav- 
ing been written since the printing of the work commenced,) 
has been much greater than was expected, when the pro- 
spectus was issued. 

He has found it inconvenient to appropriate so much of 
his leisure, exclusively, to the execution of a design; not 
only unproductive of immediate emolument, but necessarily 
involving considerable expense. 



xciv To the Candid Reader, 

Having engaged in this business, too, in the first mo- 
ments of convalescence from severe indisposition; hav- 
ing for the last four months, suspended social intercourse 
and bodily exercise; having scarcely, ever during this 
interval retired to rest, till two o'clock in the morning; or 
allowed himself while awake, an hour of respite from in- 
tense intellectual exertion; he has found the anxious, mo- 
notonous, life-consuming, soul-chilling drudgery of tran- 
scribing and revising for the press, and of correcting 
proof-sheets, injurious to his health and spirits. 

To candid and intelligent readers, this explanation will, 
he trusts, be satisfactory. 

With regard to the opinion, which persons of a different 
description may entertain and express, as to the propriety 
of the course which, thus circumstanced, he has thought it 
best to pursue; he well knows, that no apology or explana- 
tion, which he could offer; would avert, or even soften their 
censure. 

He feels and acknowledges, that he is pledged to pub- 
lish all that he originally announced: If he lives, a second 
volume, containing the " Essay on the Theory and Use of 
Moral Fiction," and orations previously delivered from the 
Rostrum, with Specimens of Criticism; shall make its ap- 
pearance in due season. 

In this explanation to the candid and intelligent reader, 
he asks leave to add, that in correcting the last proof-sheet 
of this volume, he felt his heart throb and his hand tremble 
with emotions, " unfelt before." 

To say that he is conscious of undue deficiency, in the 
natural or acquired qualities of an author, is a piece of af- 
fectation, to which he cannot descend. 

Assuredly, if he had thought himself thus deficient, the 
contents of this volume would not have been offered to the 
public. 



To the Candid Reader, xcv 

He has reached the maturity of life, and although he 
may reasonably expect, by the aid of practice and the ani- 
madversion of criticism, to acquire additional skill in com- 
position; to supply defects and correct errors in style, ar- 
rangement, and illustration; he would betray egregious 
weakness, even in indulging a hope, that he will hereafter 
be qualified, to think more accurately or deeply, than he is 
now capable of doing. 

He has, too, for years, distinctly foreseen, that he would 
arrive at a stage in the execution of the enterprise which 
he has undertaken; when farther success would be hopeless 
or worthless, without the acquisition of permanent and ex- 
tended celebrity as a philosophical writer. 

But he has arrived at this stage somewhat unexpected- 
ly, and has found it necessary to invite public attention as 
an author, in a tone of feeling, with an unpreparedness, and 
under circumstances; singularly unpropitious to the tran- 
quil, energetic, deliberate, and vigorous exertion of' his 
faculties. 

The candid and intelligent reader will, he trusts, have 
the goodness to consider, that after passing twelve years in 
scholastic seclusion, the author of this volume, suddenly 
undertook a literary enterprise, new and anomalous; the 
execution of which was full of anxiety, delicacy, and diffi- 
culty; that in the prosecution of this design he has neither 
been guided by sage counsel, nor impelled by soul-awaken- 
ing, spirit-stirring rivalry: that except through the medium 
of their writings, (and his opportunities for consulting these, 
have been scanty and incidental,) he has had no access to 
the society of the heroes and veterans in literary warfare; 
the living luminaries of philosophy and science; the dis- 
pensers of reward or punishment, to literary desert or de- 
linquency. 

In long-established pursuits, in regular and respectable 
professions, the road is obvious and beaten; the pilgrim ha* 



xcvi To the Candid Reader. 

fellow-travellers and competitors, and counsellors at every 
stage of his journey: if he travels occasionally alone, he 
finds sign-posts, and mile-stones, and lights, and directo- 
ries; to measure distances, ascertain his relative situation, 
prevent deviations, and guide him on his way. 

But it has been the destiny of the Author of this volume 
to traverse a pathless, and often dreary wilderness, without 
a guide to conduct, or a compass to direct him, and al- 
though the " string-siding champion conscience" has never 
forsaken him; the " prime-cheerer" has often ceased to 
cheer, the " hovering angel" has often disappeared for 
weeks and months, and left the lonely pilgrim to languish 
on the couch of unpitied pain, with no companion, but 

" Grim-visaged comfortless despair." 

He is painfully aware too, that his unaccustomedness, 
and consequent want of dexterity and skill, in the technical 
arrangement and formal preparation of whatever is sub- 
mitted to the public eye, through the medium of the press; 
is a disadvantage of no ordinary magnitude: one too, from 
which younger and less daring literary adventurers, have 
far less to dread. 

He cannot but fear, nor can he forbear to express an 
anxious presentiment, that the defects and blemishes of his 
style, (even the defects and blemishes which he can himself 
detect in almost every page of what he has written;) ne- 
gligent or singular punctuation; looseness, infelicity, super- 
fluity and inaccuracy of expression, and above all, the pro- 
fusion of tropes, founded in fanciful resemblance, or faint 
analogy; are not merely inauspicious to the confirmation, 
but ominous of the disappointment, of all the sanguine and 
presumptuous hopes of literary celebrity, which have gilded 
his day-dreams: that have cheated whilst they charmed 
him, during the fitful visitations of romantic enthusiasm. 



To the Candid Reader. xcvii 

Video meliora, proboque — deteriora sequor. 

Few living authors have, perhaps no author that ever 
lived had, a clearer conviction of the radical malignity of 
metaphor, and of all tropes founded on resemblance, than 
the writer of the preceding Essays: but early and inveterate 
habit in this instance, as in so many others, maintains her 
usurped ascendancy. 

If he lives long enough and finds leisure to prepare for 
the press his " Lectures on Oratory;" he will endeavour to 
expose, in a clear and striking light, the inappropriateness 
and unfitness of metaphorical language, not only in philoso- 
phical disquisition, but even for the purposes of poetical and 
rhetorical embellishment. 

Even candid and intelligent readers will perhaps be 
surprized; that in referring to the peculiar defects and 
blemishes of his style, the Author has not adverted to the 
length of his sentences, and the almost unprecedented fre- 
quency with which parentheses recur in his pages. 

He has offered no apology for these peculiarities, be- 
cause it is his deliberate opinion, that both are defensible 
and proper. 

He hopes hereafter, to have an appropriate occasion, to 
explain analytically and in detail, his reasons for entertain- 
ing this opinion. 

He will at present merely observe, that not only in 
philosophical disquisition, and rhetorical declamation; but 
not seldom, even in narrative, sentential length, is not less 
necessary to the perspicuous, connected, and even elegant 
statement of facts, and development of thought; than size 
of caliber to the momentum of the ball discharged from a 
piece of artillery, or length in the bow, to the distance to 
which an arrow reaches, and to the force with which it 
penetrates the object, which it strikes. 

3 K 



xcviii To the Candid Reader. 

It seems to the writer, that a man might as well attempt 
to walk with dignity, without an ample stride; declaim im- 
pressively and delightfully, without a slow and measured 
utterance: or to dance gracefully, without a curvilineal 
flexion of the limbs, and free space for locomotion; as to 
reason closely, illustrate copiously and clearly, or narrate 
facts fully and distinctly, without the use of long sentences. 

When this subject is fully analyzed and illustrated, it 
will probably appear, that the propriety of sentential 
length, and its indispensable adjunct, parenthetic clauses, 
rest upon the same foundation. 

A hand without a palm; glands without absorbents; a 
chamber without closets; a coat or a pair of pantaloons 
without pockets; a side-board without compartments; a 
trunk without a boot; would scarcely be more inconvenient 
or incomplete, than the composition or structure of style, 
without the free and frequent use of parenthesis. 

To bring this subject to the test of experiment, the 
writer begs leave to direct the reader's attention, (if he has 
leisure, or feels any inclination to examine nicely so com- 
paratively frivolous a question,) to the sixth paragraph in 
page seventy, of the Supplementary Narrative in this vo- 
lume. 

That paragraph contains a sentence of unusual length, 
involving no fewer than three parentheses. 

The writer freely acknowledges, that after various 
trials, he found himself unable to shorten this sentence, or 
omit any of the parentheses; without impairing the distinct- 
ness and connexion of the ideas which he wished to con- 
vey. 

He has ventured to advert to this subject, as one com- 
paratively frivolous, and such surely it is. 

A fastidious, squeamish, and prurient delicacy to the 
beauties and blemishes of style, is one of the many evi- 



To the Candid Reader, xcix 

dences of the polished littleness, the elaborate frivolity of 
modern taste. 

To detect and expose error, to develop and illustrate 
truth, is the pride of intellect, and the glory of genius; 
the triumph of eloquence, and the duty of wisdom. Style, 
in its most enlarged acceptation, (with all its properties, 
adjuncts and embellishments,) is the atmosphere, not the 
lisjht; the channel, not the stream of knowledge. 

Whether that light shines through a clear or cloudy, a 
dry or humid air, concerns but little the industrious cultiva- 
tor, the adventurous traveller, the healthful sportsman, or 
the hardy soldier: can affect deeply, only, the sickly and 
hypochondriacal valetudinarian, whose spirit is " servile to 
all the skyey influences," which 

" Do the habitation which his spirit haunts, 
" Hourly afflict." 

Whether the stream rolls over a pebbly or a golden 
bed, concern not him, who languishes to quench his thirst 
at the crystal fountain; to bathe his limbs in the refreshing 
flood; or watches with the " mind's eye," the silent, ever- 
active, all-pervading influence of the watery element, in fer- 
tilizing the soil, and nourishing all the luxuriancy of vege- 
tation. 

Meanwhile, he must in this volume, appear before the 
tribunals of criticism and taste, with this, and many minor 
literary sins upon his head, " unanointed and unaneled;" 
appear not as a supplicant for mercy, (that he disdains,) 
but as a claimant for justice, which he demands. 

And if the contents of this volume, from the precipita- 
tion with which they have been committed to the press, and 
the author's unaccustomedness to the mechanical arts of 
composition, (in which skill can be acquired by practice 
only,) are unusually obnoxious to the attacks of verbal cri- 
tics and low-minded cavillers: If the morbid sensibility of 



e To the Candid Reader. 

its Author should be stung by the bees who have deserted 
the literary hive, from incapacity or indolence; or been ex- 
expelled for malignity or impotence; if the defects and 
blemishes to which he has adverted, of which he is pain- 
fully conscious, should be unfairly or ungenerously exagge- 
rated by malignant, envious, or illiberal animadversion; he 
not only indulges a hope, but avows an expectation, that 
the august and appellate tribunals of criticism will 

" Send a glistering guardian, if need "be," 

to chase these vermin, to more appropriate prey. 

Throughout the United States, he well knows, and 
proudly feels, that he has faithful and zealous friends; who 
will every where protect his work from the attacks of illi- 
beral animadversion and malignant misrepresentation: 
Friends, from whose partial affection he has perhaps more 
to fear, than from the attacks of cavillers and disparagers. 



APPENDIX. 



TO STUDENTS OF THE SENIOR AND JUNIOR CLASSES, 
IN THE COLLEGE OF COLUMBIA. 

YOUNG GENTLEMEN, 

With the consent of the Trustees of the College of Columbia, and 
of the Faculty, Mr. Ogilvie invites the attentionof Students of the se- 
nior and junior classes, to the subjoined outline of a plan, for assisting 
them to acquire some knowledge of the principles, and skill in the ex- 
ercise of oratory. 

Although acknowledged eminence in any of the departments of 
eloquence is very rare, Mr. Ogilvie is induced to suspect that the ca- 
pacities for reaching eminence, are more liberally bestowed by nature, 
than is generally imagined. 

He appeals to any competent teacher of elocution, whether most 
young persons, betwixt eleven and fifteen years of age, are not capable 
of acquiring a skill in elocution; that cannot fail to astonish those who 
have not made or witnessed the experiment: He appeals also to compe- 
tent, and much more to accomplished instructors of rhetoric, composi- 
tion, and criticism, whether a much greater number of young persons 
than is generally believed, betwixt fifteen and eighteen years of age, 
who have access, real access, to the benefits of classical and liberal 
education, are not capable of a proficiency quite as striking in sponta- 
neous declamation, and studied composition. 

The union and combination of these accomplishments, in an uncom- 
mon degree; constitute the indispensable and sufficient means of emi- 
nence in public speaking, and as considerable knowledge, promptitude 
and skill, in the use of each of these co- essential instruments of oratory 
is within the reach of so many, why is their union so rare? 

The solution of this problem, is to his mind as obvious as it is satis- 
factor In most systems, or courses of liberal education, (even in those 
that are most valuable,) no means are provided to stimulate and aid young 
persons iu the acquisition of these accomplishments, or the means are 



cii Appendix. 

provided, and these accomplishments are of course cultivated, separately 
and exclusively: Those who cultivate the one, too often, (in fact, very 
generally,) neglect the cultivation of its co-essential counterpart. 

Those who cultivate elocution with enthusiasm and success, become 
fine actors; those who study criticism, composition, and rhetoric, be- 
come elegant writers merely: thus, although the natural constituents of 
oratory are richly and widely scattered, their union in the accomplished 
orator, is rarely exhibited. 

The memorable and immortal triumph of Demosthenes, over diffi- 
culties in many respects organical and seemingly insuperable, cannot 
fail to animate the efforts of every modern competitor for eminence as 
an orator. 

Let him recollect, at the moment, when, with a beating heart and 
faultering step, he first ascends the Rostrum, that the eloquence which 
in the glorious days of Greece, 

" Wielded at will a fierce Democratic, 

" Shook the arsenal and fulmined over Greece, 

" From Macedon to Artaxerxes' throne." 

That this transcendant, original, and hitherto unrivalled eloquence, 
was not the boon of indulgent nature, or the effusion of divine inspira- 
tion, but the slow, gradual, and progressive result of a series of ener- 
getic efforts, enlightened by correct ideas of the means by which orato- 
rical skill may be attained, and stimulated and inflamed by that " Amor 
patriae laudumque immensa cupido," which inspire and sustain all the 
sublimer efforts of moral and intellectual energy. 

With intelligent readers, this speculation will pass for as much as 
it is worth. If Mr. Ogilvie, meanwhile, should execute in the College 
of Columbia, the plan of which he is about to subjoin an outline, the 
speculation which he has ventured to premise, will be subjected to the 
severest and most unerring of all tests,"the test of experience, j 

To the result of this experiment fairly made, whether in Columbia 
or elsewhere, by himself or another, now or hereafter, he begs leave 
to appeal from the judgments of those who deem this speculation falla- 



• (C/'On a subject of this sort the plausible, even the most profound spe- 
culation, is of little value. The results of practice, of experiment, ought alone 
to guide our opinions. 

With this clear conviction, the narrator will form a small class of boys not 
exceeding in age fourteen years, and, by devoting an hour or two to their in- 



Appendix, ciii 

But before Mr. Ogilvie proceeds to sketch his outline, there is one 
preliminary explanation, which he is eager and even anxious to offer. 
It may be perhaps conceived by some, that the subjects of his lectures 
are comprehended in the extensive department of philosophical instruc- 
tion and exercises, which devolves upon the president of the college of 
Columbia, and must necessarily interfere with the academical labours 
of that gentleman. 

Were the subjects of the course of lectures, &c. which Mr. Og-ilvie 
is about to announce thus comprehended; could this interference, with 
any shadow of reason be anticipated, assuredly he never would have 
formed this design; or if he had, the college of Columbia is one of the 
last universities in the United States, in which he would have thought 
of announcing or attempting its execution. 

Sincere sentiments of respect and esteem for the established charac- 
ter of Dr. Maxcy, would have prevented him from proposing to instruct 
students in the college of Columbia, on any subject embraced by his 
department, and even had Mr. Ogilvie been insensible to sentiments so 
generally felt and cordially cherished, prudence would have imperious- 
ly forbidden him to encounter so formidable a competitor: to expose 
his first attempt, to execute a design that so deeply interests him, to 
immediate comparison with the matured exertions of an instructor so 
accomplished, successful and revered. The fact is, that in the college of 
S. Carolina, as in every other seminary in the United States, there is no 
distinct professorship of oratory and elocution, nor any provision made 
for assisting students to acquire skill in the exercise of these striking 
and estimable accomplishments. 

On Mr. Ogilvie's arrival in Columbia, he first opened his design to 
Dr. Maxcy, and it was hailed by that gentleman with the cordiality of 
a man, who feels and cherishes a deep and disinterested concern in 
whatever may be expected to promote, however faintly and remotely, 
the prosperity of the institution over which he presides, and the im- 

struction in elocution every day (Sundays excepted) during one month, will 
undertake to teach them to recite different passages from Paradise Lost, 
Comus, and the dramas of Shakspeare, in a manner far more striking 
and appropriate, than such passages are generally recited even by admired 
actors. 

He will form this class in one of the cities (probably in Boston or Balti- 
more,) which he proposes to visit previous to his departure from the United 
States. 



civ Appendix, 

provement of the young persons who are entrusted to his superinten- 
dence. 

Far from looking forward, even to the possibility of any sort of invi- 
dious collision or comparison; Mr. Ogilvie, (should he execute the 
plan which he is about to propose,) has the best reason to anticipate 
the most cordial concert and harmonious co-operation, not only be- 
twixt himself and the president, but betwixt himself and the professors 
of the college. 

Miserably superficial and deficient indeed, must any course of Lec- 
tures on rhetoric be, which fails to illustrate the connexion that subsists 
betwixt every sort of scientific knowledge, and the acquisition of emi- 
nence in all the sublimer departments of oratory. But for his various 
and profound knowledge, Burke would probably have been nothing 
more than a turgid aud superficial declaimer. 

But enough, and too much, perhaps, of preface and explanation. It 
is full time to proceed to sketch the outline of the plan, to which the at- 
tention of students in the college of Columbia, is again invited. 



LECTURES ON RHETORIC, AND EXERCISES IN ELOCU- 
TION, CRITICISM, AND COMPOSITION. 

MR. OGILVIE proposes to deliver, in the college of Columbia, a 
course of LECTURES on Rhetoric, accompanied by occasional ex- 
ercises in criticism and composition, and constant exercises in elocution; 
provided two classes can be formed from amongst the students, on the 
terms which he is about to subjoin. 

He wishes to form two classes; a Senior and a Junior class. The 
attention of the Senior class will extend to every part of the course. 
The attention of the Junior class will be confined to the exercises of 
elocution solely. 

He will deliver two lectures every week, from the commencement 
to the expiration of the course, at hours of 

Each lecture will occupy from an hour to an hour and a half. He will 
devote an hour and a half every evening to exercises in elocution. 

Should the design he announces be carried into effect, his course 
of lectures, &c. will occupy four months, commencing on the first of 
March, and terminating on the last day of June. 

At the expiration of the course, the trustees of the college, parents, 
and public, will be enabled to judge of the utility of the plan, and th« 



Appendix, cr 

proficiency of his pupils, through the medium of a public examination 
n.nd exhibition. 

The number of the senior class cannot exceed twenty, nor fall short 
of twelve. The number of the junior class may be confined to twenty, 
or extend to fifty. He will not only be perfectly satisfied, that the 
number of the senior class should be limited to twelve, and that of the 
junior to twenty, but would prefer this limitation. 

The pecuniary compensation which Mr. Ogilvie will expect to re- 
ceive for his services, will be twelve dollars from every member of the 
senior, and six from every member of the junior class, to be paid at the 
expiration of the course. 

To young persons, who look forward to pursuits or professions that 
call for the constant or occasional exercise of public speaking-, Mr. 
Ogilvie cannot hesitate in believing, that the course which he propo- 
ses, will be eminently useful. 

Mr. Ogilvie would deem it impertinent to expatiate on the impor- 
tance of those studies and exercises, that impart a knowledge of the 
principles of rhetoric and skill in the exercise of elocution. Under a 
government permanently and essentially popular, their importance, 
like whatever else, is remarkably obvious, and extensively useful, has 
become proverbial. Under such a government, superior ability and 
skill in public speaking, necessarily becomes equally valuable, as an 
instrument of personal distinction and public usefulness. Engaged for 
the last six years in pronouncing specimens of oratory from the Ros- 
trum, in all the principal cities, and in many of the smaller towns of 
the United States, Mr. Ogilvie is willing to indulge a hope that his ex- 
ertions have had some tendency to promote the cultivation of oratory. 

He is, however, fully aware that much more may be achieved by a 
systematic and persevering effort on a defined scale, than by transient 
impressions on an over- varying and widely extended surface. Whilst 
the design which he now announces, will supply a remedy for this radi- 
cal defect in the pursuit in which he is now engaged, its influence may, 
in a limited time, be extended to every university in the United States. 

Previous, however, to the repetition of this course, &c. in any other 
American university, he will probably accomplish his long projected, 
anxiously anticipated, and often delayed visit to Great Britain. 

Should Mr. Ogilvie continue to enjoy tolerable health and spirits, it 
will be in his power, in conformity with the scheme he has adopted, to 
visit six or eight universities in six years. 

Thus executed, an individual effort might be made to produce a per- 
manent impression on the national character, a passion for the cultiva- 

3 G 



evi Appendix* 

tion of oratory might be rooted in the minds of a considerable portion 
of that class of persons who, by having- access in their youth a to the be- 
nefits of liberal education, are destined to become the legislators, the 
instructors, and the ornaments of the community of which they are 
members, and transmitted from that class, to a still more numerous 
portion of their descendants. The hope of being instrumental in pro- 
moting the cultivation of oratory, in the American republic and of ren- 
dering oratory subservient to the noblest purposes of utility, benefi- 
cence, and generous ambition, of assisting any number of that portion 
of the rising generation, who are destined hereafter, by their virtues 
and accomplishments, to exalt the national character, and enlighten 
public opinion, the hope of achieving or of doing aught that may have 
a tendency to promote objects so valuable and noble, inspires, and will 
sustain, a lofty and generous enthusiasm, and will assuredly call forth 
all the energy which Mr. Ogilvie is capable of exerting. Such are the 
views and motives that influence him, in the formation, and will ani- 
mate his efforts, in the execution of the design which he now announ- 
ces. 

Students in the college of Columbia, betwixt fifteen and eightee* 
years of age, who possess ingenuous and amiable dispositions, and are 
capable of close and persevering application, who look forward to legal 
or political pursuits, are earnestly and affectionately invited to become 
members of his senior class. 

P. S. Every student who may be disposed to become a member of 
either of the proposed classes, had better, probably, consult his father 
or guardian; before he annexes his signature: the president and pro- 
fessor, he will of course consult. 

Nothing can be more contrary to Mr. Ogilvie's wishes, than to in- 
duce the student to annex his signature, under the influence of sudden 
impression. It is therefore his wish, that no student should annex his 
signature, previous to his (Mr. Ogilvie's) departure from Columbia on 
Tuesday next. 

Mr. Ogilvie will leave in the hands of a few of the students, (who 
may have the kindness to take charge of them) printed copies of his 
proposals, which can be, in due season, transmitted by post to Mr. 
Ogilvie in Charleston, with the signatures of such students, as after 
mature reflection and due consultation with their friends and instruct- 
ors, may choose to become members of the two classes. 

As close and persevering application will be expected from every 
member of either class, Mr. Ogilvie is peculiarly anxious that every 
student in becoming a member, should act with the most deliberate v«- 



Appendix, cvii 

lition. Previous to his departure from Columbia, on Tuesday next, 
Mr Ogilvie will be happy to converse for a few minutes with such of 
the students, as may think of becoming members. 



FINAL EXAMINATION AND EXHIBITIONS OF MR. OGIL- 
VIE'S SENIOR CLASS, IN THE COLLEGE OF COLUM- 
BIA. 

THE course of lectures on oratory which, Mr. Ogilvie undertook 
to deliver in the college of Columbia, will terminate on the 21st day of 
this month. 

In executing- this design, he has borne in mind what was due to its 
dignity and to his own pretensions. All that could be achieved by ta- 
lents and attainments, such as his, within so short a period of time, has 
been achieved. His exertions have been indefatigable, and his enthu- 
siasm has never for a moment flagged. 

But visionary are the hopes, and abortive must be the labours of an 
instructor, if his pupils fail to catch his enthusiasm and second his ex- 
ertions. 

The young gentlemen who compose his senior class in the college 
of Columbia, have caught the enthusiasm and seconded the exertions of 
their instructor: their ardour, diligence, and perseverance deserve de- 
cided approbation. 

Twelve years of his life, devoted with assiduity and zeal to the in- 
struction of youth in Virginia, taught him to confide in the efficiency of 
that sort of moral discipline, that appeals to the liberal curiosity, to the 
generous ambition, the unsophisticated honour, and to the warm and 
trusting affections of ingenuous youth. 

His confidence in the efficacy of this sort of discipline, and his con- 
viction of its adaptation to the political institutions and national charac- 
ter of the American people, have been rather strengthened than im- 
paired by the result of his labours in the college of Columbia. 

In order to exhibit as fair and complete a specimen as possible of 
the proficiency of his pupils, his senior class will, on Monday the 26th, 
betwixt the hours of ten and twelve in the forenoon, undergo a public 
examination, embracing an analysis of all the elementary parts of the 
course of lectures which he has delivered. 

The young gentlemen who compose his senior class will also pro- 
nounce original specimens of composition from the Rostrum; this exhibi- 



CV111 



Appendix. 



tion will occupy three successive evenings; the evenings, the order of 
succession, and the theses, will be as follow: 



On 



evening, at 7 6* clock. 



1 Moral analysis of Gray's Ode to adversity, Mr. Baker. 

2 On the utility of Public Libraries, - Mr. Be van. 

3 On Criticism, - Mr. Buist. 

4 On Female Education, - Mr. Winston. 

5 Character of Cicero, - Mr. Gourdin. 

6 On Elocution, - Mr. Johnson. 

7 On Ridicule, - Mr. Pickens. 

8 On the benefits to be expected from a cordial co- 

operation of the Senior Students with their in- 
structors, to discountenance and suppress immo- 



rality and vice, 



On 



Mr. M'Coloug-h. 



evening, at 7 o'clock. 



1 On Glover's Leonidas, - Mr. Barker. 

2 On Oratory, - Mr. Boylston. 

3 On pulpit oratory, - Mr. Gilbert. 

4 On honour, - Mr. Elliot. 

5 On the importance of chemical science, - Mr. Porter. 

6 On a passage from Telemachus; - Mr. Maxcy. 

7 On patriotism, -.-.-.- Mr. Simmons. 

8 Are friendship and patriotism compatible with 

Mr. Wardlaw. 



justicer 
On 



evening, at 7 o'clock. 



1 On a passage from Byron's Childe Harold, Mr. Folker. 

2 On politeness, - Mr. Mauger. 

3 On free discussion, - Mr. Taylor. 

4 On academic order, - - . Mr. Holloway. 

5 On the press, - Mr. Bird. 

6 On envy and emulation, - - Mr. Inglesby. 

7 On the pleasures of literature and sense, Mr. T. Gourdin. 

8 Valedictory address, - Mr. Smith. 



Jlppendix. eix 

THE SOUTH-CAROLINA COLLEGE. 

July 11, 1815. 
Messrs. Fausts, 

I INCLOSE for insertion, in your paper, communications from the 
faculty of this college, and from the standing committee of the trus- 
tees, in relation to Mr. Ogilvie's Lectures on Oratory. These com- 
munications contain a spontaneous and distinct expression (by those 
who had a full opportunity to judge of the character and tendency of 
his course) of the opinion they entertain of his ability to execute the 
arduous design he has undertaken, and of the success which has crown- 
ed his first effort for that purpose. 

As Mr. Ogilvie proposes (after delivering, successively, in the prin- 
cipal cities of the United States, three discourses on oratory, from the 
Rostrum,) to repeat his course of lectures, in other American colleges, 
the insertion of the enclosed testimonies, in your paper, and their re- 
publication in other gazettes, will have some tendency to facilitate the 
execution of an enterprise not less splendid than useful. Can any re- 
flecting and intelligent person, in any class of society, but in that class 
more particularly, who are engaged in the education of youth, be in- 
sensible to the advantages which would result from the success of a sys- 
tematic and extended effort to promote the cultivation of oratory, as a 
branch of liberal education, in a country that presents so many pecu- 
liar incentives to the acquisition, and opportunities for the exercise of 
oratorical skill: in a society where public speaking, next to the press, 
is the most authentic organ of public opinion, and contributes perhaps 
more than the press to influence the public mind? Nor ought it to be 
forgotten, that in this instance, one of the first, perhaps the very first 
systematic effort, to promote the cultivation of oratory in modern times, 
(by uniting lectures on rhetoric^with regular and elaborate exercises in 
elocution,) has been made by a man who devoted twelve years, with 
unwearied assiduity, to the instruction of youth in Virginia; who from 
the moment when he shut the door of his academy, and ascended the 
Rostrum, has given continued and unequivocal proofs, that his exer- 
tions were stimulated more by the glory of the enterprise, and by a de- 
sire to render himself useful, than by any prospect of benefit exclusive- 
ly personal or pecuniary; who has the satisfaction of recollecting, that 
there is scarcely a literary or charitable institution in the United 
States, to which he has not rendered substantial services; who in pass- 
ing from the Rostrum to the lecture room, at the very time when his 



ex Appendix, 

oratorical exhibitions were most popular and attractive, and volunta- 
rily undertaking to deliver an original and elaborate course of lectures 
on oratory, for a pecuniary compensation, that fell short of the emolu- 
ment arising- from the delivery even of one of his orations, has founded 
his hopes of success, solely on the disinterestedness of his motives, and 
the utility of his exertions. 

Mr. Ogilvie commenced his lectures in shattered health, and in a 
state of great bodily debility, yet such was his enthusiasm, that his ex- 
ertions were strenuous and indefatigable from the first hour to the last. 
The man who professes to act, and does act, under the influence of 
motives thus liberal and expanded, has a solid and indisputable claim 
to the countenance and co-operation of every good citizen, of every 
real patriot. He has a right to that portion of public patronage, whick 
is essential to the execution of his plans. 

I am, very respectfully, 

your obedient servant, 

JONATHAN MAXCY. 



THE SOUTH-CAROLINA COLLEGE. 

July 3, 1815. 

THE underwritten consider themselves as discharging a debt of 
justice, in submitting to the public the following statement, concerning 
the course of oratorical lectures lately delivered in this college by Mr. 
James Ogilvie. 

On his arrival at this place, he communicated his wishes and inten- 
tions to the faculty and board of trustees, and an arrangement was im- 
mediately made to accommodate his system of instruction. A class of 
twenty, which was afterwards increased to nearly thirty, was formed 
out of the two highest classes belonging to the college. Mr. Ogilvie 
began his lectures in March, and continued them until the latter part 
of June. He gave lectures twice in each week, on Wednesday and 
Saturday. After each lecture, questions, the answers to which would 
involve the principal points which had been discussed, were delivered 
to the different members of the class. These questions they were re- 
quired to answer in writing, exhibit to the lecturer at an appointed 
time, and submit them to his inspection and criticism. This proved* a 
very useful exercise in composition. In order to render his instruc- 
tions substantially useful, Mr. Ogilvie, during the whole course of his 
lectures, exercised the class three hours every day (except Saturday 
and Sunday) in declamations and recitations. Mr. Ogilvie's exer- 



Jlppendix. exi 

tions in this, as in all other parts of his course, were constant and inde- 
fatigable; and their salutary effects soon became visible, in the just, 
manly, and graceful delivery of his pupils. On every Wednesday even- 
ing* exercises in elocution, and specimens of criticism were publicly 
exhibited in the college chapel. The audiences on these occasions 
were numerous and highly respectable; and constantly gave the most 
decisive evidences of their approbation. 

At the close of his course on the last week in June, Mr. Ogilvie's 
class sustained a public examination on oratory; and on the two even- 
ings entertained very crouded and brilliant audiences, with specimens 
of original composition. On all these occasions the proficiency of his 
pupils evinced the superior skill and ability with which they had been 
instructed. Though the attendance of the young gentlemen on Mr. 
Ogilvie's lectures was entirely voluntary, yet such was their convic- 
tion of his real ability to instruct them; and of the advantages to be de- 
rived from a comprehensive and brilliant display of elementary princi- 
ples, enforced with all the energy of practical skill; that their industry, 
ardour, punctuality, and correct deportment were probably never ex- 
ceeded in any college. 

In order to excite general attention, and to attract national patron- 
age, to a new, or neglected, art, no plan can promise better success 
than the delivery of a course of lectures, illustrating its utility success- 
ively, in the colleges of any civilized nation. This plan judiciously 
executed, would impart to the Rostrum some portion of that permanent 
and diffusive influence, which belongs to the press. The witty lines of 
Hudibras, 

" That all a Rhetorician's rules, 

" Teach only how to name his tools," 

cannot be applied to Mr. Ogilvie's lectures. He has attempted to teach 
the student how to use these tools with dexterity and energy. He has 
done more; he has dared to attempt the fabrication of more efficient 
tools. He has in fact commenced at the stage, where preceding lec- 
turers have suspended their inquiries and speculations; and advanced a 
itep farther, analysed the elementary principles on which the efficacy 
of oratory in all its departments essentially depends; and in the pro- 
gress of his analysis, concentrated the light; which the present ad- 
vanced state of mental philosophy, has shed upon oratory. His lectures, 
of course, are not confined to oratory alone, but develop those princi- 
ples of the human mind which are intimately connected with philoso- 
phy, rhetoric, logic and «thjgg. This course of lectures constitutes 



cxii Appendix. 

but a part of a more extensive and arduous undertaking 1 , which aims 
at the accomplishment of the same object, and which, should Mr. Ogil- 
vie recover sufficient health and vital energy, we trust, he will be able 
to execute. His mode of lecturing-, we conceive, deserves peculiar 
attention. It is singularly calculated to awaken and keep alive curiosi- 
ty; to exercise not only the faculties of intellect, but the best affec- 
tions of the heart: This has been fully proved by his having been able 
to induce the class to exert their minds with unabated energy during" 
three hours at every lecture. Nor ought we to overlook his substitu- 
tion of a species of moral discipline that almost wholly supersedes any 
recurrence to authority or coercion, in his controul over the minds of 
his pupils; a species of discipline which we believe to be peculiarly 
adapted to the education of young- persons, destined, in the maturity 
of life, to exercise the inestimable rig*hts, which republican liberty se- 
cures and perpetuates. Nor does Mr. Ogilvie omit, in his lectures, 
any opportunity to inculcate the pure and sublime principles of chris- 
tian ethicks, and to illustrate the preeminent rank which pulpit orato- 
ry is entitled to claim, and which, under the auspices of a reg-ulated 
and moral freedom, it may be expected to attain. 

Mr. Ogilvie's purpose is noble and elevated; his object grand and 
patriotic. We most cordially wish him success in his splendid enter- 
prise of reviving-, in the United States, the noble art of oratory; and 
we hope that other literary institutions may share in the same advanta- 
ges which his eminent talents, learning, and skill have conferred on 
this. 



Jonathan Maxcy, President. 

Thomas Park, Ling. Prof. 

B. R. Montgomery, Mor. Phil, and Log. Prof, f e ^'"5 

E. D. Smith, Chem. et Phil. Nat. Prof. 



&H 



THE SOUTH-CAROLINA COLLEGE. 

July 7th, 1815. 
Sir, 

YOUR connexion with the South Carolina college, has now ended; 
but before you take your final leave of it, the standing committee are 
desirous of expressing to you their sense of the services you have ren- 
dered that institution. 



Appendix, cxiii 

The improvement" of your pupils, is a sufficient evidence of the me- 
rit of your plan of instruction in oratory. This improvement has been 
rapid: perhaps we might add unexampled. The most superficial ob- 
server could not fail to be struck with it, in witnessing their public ex- 
hibitions: There were none amongst them who could not recite with 
justness and intelligence; and some seemed to have made considerable 
advances in the higher walks of impassioned eloquence. 

But the improvement of the students under your care, has not been 
confined to mere manner and delivery; the original compositions they 
recited, were of a character far superior to what Ave have been accus- 
tomed to hear from persons of their age. There was a spirit and cor- 
rectness in their manner, which showed that they were not mere auto- 
mata; they evidently comprehended the sense, and felt the force of what 
they uttered. 

To produce effects like these, it was necessary that the instructor 
should be laboriously attentive; and we know that your industry has 
been indefatigable. Mere industry on your part, however, though 
joined to the profoundest knowledge of the science you professed to 
teach, would have been of little avail, had you not possessed some means 
of producing corresponding exertions on the part of those instructed. 
And this is one of your peculiar merits. We have never known an in- 
structor who possessed in an equal degree the talent of exciting the en- 
thusiasm of his pupils. You have taught them to love the science in 
which they were instructed; and improvement must be the necessary 
consequence of such a disposition. 

Nor is this spirit confined to the science in which the students of this 
institution have been instructed by you. You have excited amongst 
them a general enthusiasm for literature; an enthusiasm, which we flat- 
ter ourselves will produce effects permanently beneficial to the college 
and the country. In this view alone we should feel ourselves bound to 
acknowledge in the strongest terms, your merits and services towards 
the South Carolina college. With the best wishes for your individual 
prosperity, and the success of the plans you have formed for the public 
advantage, 

We are, sir, your obedient servants, 

H. W. Desaussure, 
Abm. Nott, 
Wm. Harper, 
Walt. Crenshaw, 
Henry D. Ward, 
John Hooker, 
Mr. Ogilvie. 

3 D 



U&* 



11 

5j § 



exiv Appendix, 

Columbia, South Carolina, July 1th, 1815. 
Dear Sir, 

Having lately resigned my office as Professor of Mathematics and 
Astronomy, in this College, I cannot affix my name to the well-merited 
eulogium of the president and the professors. You will please, never- 
theless, to accept, with theirs, my sentiments of approbation and es- 
teem. You happily unite two branches of instruction, which in this 
country, are of inestimable importance, and which I have never before 
seen combined in the same person, either in Europe or America. The 
compositions of your pupils, delivered from the Rostrum, with grace, 
with ease and dignity, are calculated to amuse, to please, and to de- 
light. But you have done more; your private lectures on Oratory, 
embrace the widely extended circle of science: they enlighten and 
they expand the human mind; they excite the ardour and the emula- 
tion of youth. You possess, in an eminent degree, the power of ani- 
mating them to run a glorious race. 

Permit me to wish you continued success, and to subscribe myself, 
Your friend, 

GEORGE BLACKBURN. 
To James Ogilvie, Esq,. 



FROM THE SOUTHERN PATRIOT, CHARLESTON. 

MR. OGILVIE'S METHOD OF TEACHING GEOGRAPHY 
AND GRAMMAR. 

On the forenoon of Friday, the 17th June, 1816, a respectable au- 
dience of ladies and gentlemen, attended the examination, in Geogra- 
phy and Grammar, of the class of young ladies, who had been, for a 
short time ,under the instruction of Mr. Ogilvie. When Mr. O. first an- 
nounced his intention of forming such a class, and promised, that from 
his method of teaching, they should learn more in one month, than they 
could learn, in the usual methods, in twelve months — considerable cu- 
riosity was excited, to know in what manner that promise would be 
performed. The experiment has now been fairly made and it certainly 
must be highly interesting to the public to know the result. If that 
result bears any proportion to the undertaking, and the principles, by 
which it has been attained, be easily communicated, and easily applica- 
ble, the introduction of these principles into the education of youth, 
would be conferring an inestimable gift upon posterity, and entitle the 



Appendix, cxv 

man, by whom they were first employed, to the lasting- gratitude of so- 
ciety. In his method of teaching- Geography, Mr. O. has unquestion- 
ably been triumphantly successful. Some of the } r oung ladies never 
had studied before, and by attending him for only a few hours, during 
the space of a month, they had acquired more knowledge of the sci- 
ence, than can be acquired, by the usual methods of teaching it, not 
in one month only, but, it is confidently believed, in one year. The 
knowledge acquired by this method, too, is much more firmly impress- 
ed upon the memory, and associated with a chain of ideas, which can 
scarcely be effaced. 

The plan which he has adopted, is, in the highest degree, simple and 
perspicuous, easily applied, and undoubted in its efficacy. It depends 
upon the clearest principles of the understanding, and could be com- 
pletely explained and communicated to an intelligent mind, in less 
than an hour. 

The writer cannot now enter into a full exposition of the subject: 
But it is certainly very desirable that the enlightened instructors of 
youth, in Charleston, should make themselves acquainted with this me- 
thod — and there can be but little doubt, that were they to make any 
application to Mr. O. respecting- it, that gentleman's known philan- 
thropy would induce him to afford every information which they might 
require. 

In Grammar, the improvement made by the pupils of Mr. Ogilvie, 
though much beyond expectation, was not so striking as in Geography. 
The method of teaching it, which he has adopted, is, the writer be- 
lieves, entirely original. There is, perhaps, no part of education so 
persevering and universally cultivated, or in which progress is so slowly 
made, as in Grammar. Few studies have more exercised the faculties, 
and tasked the abilities of men. What would, to a superficial observer, 
seem level to the capacities of all men, a thorough knowledge of their 
vernacular language, is only to be acquired by the most discriminating 
intellect — and it is questionable whether one in ten of the youths who 
leave our schools, or graduate at our colleges, has acquired a complete 
knowledge of this important branch of education. It may, indeed, be 
doubted, whether the modes at present employed in attempting- to com- 
municate this knowledge, are at all adequate to the task; and it is 
surely worthy of inquiry, whether, after the lights which have been, 
within these few years, thrown upon it — some more effectual method of 
teaching it, might not be adopted. Under this view of the subject, the 
writer is decidedly of opinion, that great as the merit of Mr. O. is, in 
the plan which he uses in teaching Geography, his method of teaching 



Cxvi Appendix. 

Grammar is much more ingenious, and requires a much more intimate 
acquaintance with philosophy, to apply it with success — and he has 
scarcely a doubt but that, in a fair experiment, the advantages of his 
plan, in teaching" Grammar, would be as evident, as were the advan- 
tages of his plan in teaching Geography. He, in a great measure, dis- 
regards the technical denomination of words, and much of the jargon 
of the schools, entirely derived from the learned languages, and much 
of which is, in all probability, unnecessary in them, and most certainly 
is cumbrous, and worse than useless in our language. The elaborate 
apparatus of syntactical rules, which some have thought so indispensa- 
ble in teaching Grammar, he deems to be, so far as respects the Eng- 
lish language, almost wholly unnecessary, and that they rather load the 
memory of the pupil with an accumulation of words, than convey any 
clear, intelligible ideas. This is a point on which there will possibly 
be a considerable difference of opinion. What we have ourselves ac- 
quired, with much labour and perseverance, we are unwilling to be- 
lieve of little importance — and we can scarcely be brought to think 
opinions erroneous, which we have long considered as founded upon 
incontrovertible arguments. No physician, of the age of 40, alive 
when Harvey published his theory of the blood, ever became an ac- 
knowledged convert to his system. Abstract reasoning alone, (and 
this is the only proper mode of investigating it;) the very nature of our 
language, nearly destitute of concord and inflection, would perhaps set- 
tle this question in favour of Mr. O. But he is also supported in his 
opinion by the very high authority of Priestley and Johnson, the latter 
of whom expressly says of our language, " that its construction nei- 
ther requires nor admits of many rules;" and accordingly four are all 
that he gives. 

Mr. Ogilvie applies the luminous and profound speculations of 
Smith, and the discoveries of Tooke, to the explanation of the princi- 
ples of Grammar; and his method is entitled to great consideration, as 
the first attempt to make the labours of these gifted and eminent men, 
directly subservient to the purposes of instruction. By this means, the 
pupil acquires a correct view of the origin and progressive improve- 
ment of language. Many of the most intricate questions in Metaphy- 
sics — , as, for example, the dispute between the Realists, the Conceptu- 
alists and the Nominalists, are incidentally introduced to the attention 
of the learner, and really settled, without his being acquainted with 
even the existence of the controversy. 

The mind is trained to habits of reflection and analysis; and the 
study of Grammar in this method, is rendered in the highest degree in- 



Appendix, cxvii 

teresting, and prepares the pupil, by the best possible discipline, for the 
study of Logic and Metaphysics. Indeed, great progress will be made 
in both, without their names being even mentioned. 

Unfortunately for this plan, it requires a highly cultivated intellect 
to carry it into execution. Few, very few, possess that luminous dis- 
crimination; that philosophical power of analysis, and accurate infor- 
mation, which is probably indispensable for its successful application: 
But the writer has no hesitation in declaring, that, in his opinion, it is 
incomparably superior to the common modes of instruction; and that 
the youth reared under such discipline, could scarcely fail of acquiring 
no ordinary share of mental sagacity. He is disposed to think the time 
allowed to himself by Mr. Ogilvie, for. making his experiment in 
Grammar, much too short; and though the young ladies did display a 
considerable degree of improvement, and that improvement of a far 
higher kind than they could have made by the usual modes of instruc- 
tion; yet he fears that Mr. O.'s plan cannot be immediately rendered 
useful. Many of the teachers of youth would themselves require to 
be taught — and that not superficially, but profoundly, before they 
could venture to undertake so arduous a task as that of teaching 
Grammar by this method: whilst, at the same time, he is thoroughly 
convinced, that the plan is perfectly practicable, and that, could it be 
universally adopted, it would be an improvement of the very highest 
order in education. But the improvement must begin at the fountains 
of knowledge, in our colleges, among professors of Grammar, Logic 
and Metaphysics. 

A FRIEND OF YOUTH. 



The following observations were published, in consequence 
of a sudden reduction in the number of his auditors, du- 
ring his second visit to the city of New York. 

Hitherto, in announcing the orations he proposed to deliver, Mr. 
Ogilvie has confined himself to the use of language, the most simple 
and concise. He has scrupulously, and even fastidiously, avoided 
any expression, that could exhibit the semblance of artifice or osten- 
tation: He has trusted exclusively to the impression which his orations, 
and the manner in which they are delivered, produce on the minds of 
the many intelligent and respectable persons, who have done him the 
honour to listen to them. In departing, on the present occasion, from 



exviii Appendix, 

his accustomed style of notification, he pursues the course, which pro- 
priety appears to prescribe. 

Divested of the charm of novelty, the pursuit in which he is now 
engaged can lay claim to the continuance of public patronage, only on 
the ground of its intrinsic utility and attractions. On this ground, 
Mr. Ogilvie willingly, and even gladly, rests its claim; and it affords 
him peculiar satisfaction that he has an opportunity of exhibiting its 
pretensions to utility, on the theatre where his success has been bril- 
liant and animating. 

The object of the pursuit which he has adopted is, the intro- 
duction of a new, an innocent, and an elegant amusement, uniting, 
in some degree, the pleasure afforded by theatrical representations, 
with the instruction derived from a philosophical lecture: an amuse- 
ment, in which the deductions of reason, and the effusions of fancy, 
and feeling, may be embellished by the attractions of an appropriate 
and impassioned elocution: in which, the old and the young, the studi- 
ous and the fashionable, the clergyman and the layman, may partici- 
pate with equal satisfaction: in which, every variety of talent, whether 
for reasoning, wit, humour, pathos or ridicule, may be displayed with 
the most brilliant effect, and for the most beneficial purposes; an 
amusement calculated to excite, in young persons of both sexes, a 
lively taste for purer and more exalted pleasures, than such as spring 
from fashionable and expensive dissipation; an amusement, over which 
public opinion may exert so vigilant an inspection, so efficient a con- 
troul, as to preclude the possibility of its permanent perversion for per- 
nicious purposes. 

But it is not in the light of an amusement merely, that the pursuit 
in which Mr. O. is engaged ought to be viewed: It occupies an higher 
rank: It aspires, through the medium of amusement, " to raise the ge- 
nius, and to mend the heart." — It aspires to restore the Rostrum to that 
station from which so many causes have combined to degrade it, to 
open a new avenue, an ampler and more attractive field for the exhi- 
bition of all the powers of rhetoric, and for the revival and cultivation 
of the noble art, on which, in the opinion of Demosthenes, the energy 
of eloquence essentially depends: It aspires to establish a pursuit, in 
which eloquence necessarily becomes the advocate of virtue, and the 
adversary of vice, in which the orator dares not prostitute his talents 
for the purposes of venality or faction, in which the violation of his 
duty, or the desertion of his post, must be followed by an instant for- 
feiture of patronage and countenance. The more earnestly he re- 
flects on the nature of his pursuit, the more clearly does he perceive 



Appendix. cxix 

the valuable purposes to which it may be made subservient, especially 
at this time, and in this country. 

• Of all the modes, provided by nature, or invented by art, for awa- 
kening- liberal curiosity, and imparting- useful information, oral com- 
munication is confessedly the most forcible and attractive. Valua- 
ble ideas, thus conveyed, sug-g-est useful reflections, through the medi- 
um of agreeable sensations, amuse the imagination, whilst they en- 
lighten the understanding-, are adapted to minds of every dimension, 
and blending- imagery with argument, and embellishment with analy- 
sis; interest alike the indolent and the active mind; the man of reflec- 
tion and the man of feeling; the votary of pleasure and the disciple of 
reason. The astonishing influence of philosophy, eloquence and amu- 
sive literature, on the taste, character and manners of the ancient 
Greeks, particularly the Athenians, was, perhaps, principally owing to 
the superior vivacity and attractions of oral communication, to that 
habit of solitary reading, which, in consequence of the invention of 
printing, and the multiplication of books, has been, in modern times, 
so widely extended. Not that he would, for a moment, overlook the 
transcendant utility of the press, or the vast superiority of reading, 
judiciously selected, and steadily pursued, to every other method, by 
which knowledge can be acquired. Books, from the facility with 
which they are multiplied and renewed, the immortality they impart to 
the discoveries of science, and the productions of genius, the infinite 
value of the matter they contain, and the cheapness of the form they 
assume, must always be the purest and most copious fountains of intel- 
lectual improvement. 

The utility of books, however, must be, in a great measure, latent 
and prospective, until, by the dispersion of valuable libraries, the for- 
mation of philosophical societies, and above all, the extensive estab- 
lishment of scientific schools, a taste for the attractions of literature, 
can be generally excited, and a conviction of the value of knowledge 
deeply rooted and widely diffused. 

In a country, where from obvious causes, institutions of this sort 
have not yet been sufficiently multiplied and matured, the utility of 
those modes of communicating knowledge, that unite solid improve- 
ment, with immediate gratification, must surely be obvious to all. The 
charm of elocution, the vivid language and electrical influence of 
looks, tones and gestures, rouse the curiosity of innumerable minds, 
which, from natural or habitual indolence, the neglect of education, 
during their earlier years, or the want of elementary information, are 
unwilling to explore, or unable to comprehend, the methodical disqui- 



cxx Appendix. 

sitions of science. In such countries, oral communication may be em- 
ployed as a temporary substitute for the agency, and an auspicious har- 
binger for the introduction of more permanent and efficient institution* 
for the diffusion of knowledge. 

Through this medium, the elementary truths of moral and political 
philosophy may be analyzed; the principles of speculative Ethics and 
practical morality illustrated; the vices that spring, not " from the 
rankness of oppression, but from the luxuriancy of freedom," may be 
successfully assailed; prevailing errors and immoralities may be ar- 
raigned before the tribunal of public opinion; in fine, through this me- 
dium eloquence is probably destined to recover and display the eleva- 
tion and energy, the boldness and fervor, which characterized this 
noble art, in the glorious days of Greece and Rome. Recover! why 
not surpass? Do not the topics he has enumerated, afford ampler scope 
for the exhibition, and more animating motives, for the exertion, of all 
the powers of rhetoric and elocution, than those which exercised the 
ingenuity of ancient orators, and agitated the passions of their auditors? 

Such is the nature, and such are the objects of the pursuit in 
which Mr. O. is engaged. To indulge a hope, or insinuate an expec- 
tation, that he possesses abilities or attainments adequate to the execu- 
tion of a plan, so novel in its nature, so vast in its extent, so various in 
its objects, would betray a degree of arrogance and weakness, of 
which he would anxiously avert the imputation. He does not indeed 
indulge so presumptuous a hope, so weak an imagination. To execute 
this plan, in all its extent, variety and grandeur, demands the combin- 
ed and successive efforts, of confederated minds. But such a succes- 
sion and combination of efforts must commence. 

Mr. Ogilvie has commenced, and conscious of the purity of the 
motive by which he is governed, encouraged by the success which has 
hitherto crowned his exertions, and convinced of the utility of his 
pursuit, he is determined to persevere. It is his deliberate and deter- 
mined purpose, to devote the prime of his life, and the maturity of his 
mind, to the prosecution of the design he has undertaken. The errors 
into which he may be involuntarily betrayed, by temerity, or inexpe- 
rience, he will acknowledge, and endeavour to correct: Liable as he 
is, both from temperament and habit, to sudden vicissitudes of energy 
and apathy, of inspiring hope and cheerless dejection; unexpected dif- 
ficulties and disappointments may disconcert, but cannot divert him 
from the prosecution of his design. Solitary, and unaided by every 
sort of factitious patronage, as his exertions are, he is contented to rest 
his hopes of success, solely, on the impression which his orations, and 



Appendix, exxi 

the manner in which they are delivered, produce on the minds of the 
intelligent and respectable persons who may listen to them. — " He 
could not, if he would," and assuredly he would not, if he could, 
rest his hopes of success on any other foundation, or look for aid from 
any other auxiliary. In the orations he delivers, he will scrupulously 
avoid the discussion of any subject, calculated to excite party animo- 
sities. Topics connected with taste, with ethics, with political econo- 
my, with education and practical morality, afford ample scope, and ad- 
mirable materials for the purposes of oratory. 

The illustration of these topics, must be alike interesting- to intelli- 
gent persons of both sexes, and of all denominations. On these, the 
orator may speculate with independence, and speak with sincerity. 
Such have been the selected subjects of the orations which Mr. Ogil- 
vie has heretofore delivered, and such will be the subjects of those he 
proposes hereafter to compose and deliver. In the progress of an ex- 
tensive excursion through the principal cities of the United States, he 
has delivered orations, on Happiness, Duelling, Gaming, Suicide, Edu- 
cation, Beneficence, Luxury, The Progress of Civilization, Public Li- 
braries and War. 

In none of the cities which Mr. Ogilvie has visited, was his success 
more flattering than during his former visit to New York; in none, was 
he indebted for this success so exclusively to the impression produced by 
his orations on the minds of his auditors; and in none, did he evince, 
with a sensibility more awakened, or in a manner more unequivocal, 
that he valued success, principally as it had a tendency to enlarge the 
sphere of his usefulness. 



3 s 



ERRATA. 



Although the author has been anxiously attentive, and he 
believes unusually assiduous, in correcting the proof-sheets of 
this volume; although he has spared no possible pains, he is 
painfully conscious that the errors are unusually numerous. 

Amongst the many unanswerable arguments that may be 
urged to prove, that the notion of perfectibility is of all the vi- 
sions of an undisciplined imagination, the most visionary; the 
acknowledged impossibility of acquiring dexterity and skill in 
any of the arts and employments, manual or mental, of civilized 
man, without practice; is perhaps the most striking and satis- 
factory. 

Knowledge is power: as knowledge is increased, our ability 
to do good or avert evil, to enjoy or impart happiness, to avoid, 
alleviate, or endure misery, is increased also: As knowledge is 
increased too, it is simplified in its processes, and becomes more 
compendious in its methods: Its acquisition consequently is fa- 
cilitated, its circulation is at once accelerated and extended, and 
its beneficent applications and uses are multiplied and diversi- 
fied, whilst the abuse and misapplication of the power which it 
confers, are counteracted and corrected. 

All this is true; and these truths are grand, sublime, and in- 
effably consoling, animating, and even inspiring. The man who 
perceives not the evidence, who feels not the sublimity and in- 
spiration, of these truths, is such only in form and by name: 
Of the true dignity of human nature, he can know nothing. 

But it is true, also, not only that dexterity and skill in the 
practical application and use of knowledge can be obtained 
solely, but that the very knowledge which is proverbially and 
pre-eminently most essential to happiness; (to the perform- 
ance of our personal and social duties,) can be acquired solely by 
personal experience; by the actual repetition of the identical 
process and operations, by which such dexterity, skill, and 
knowledge were originally obtained and acquired. 






ERRATA. 

Such dexterity, skill, and knowledge, can neither be trans- 
mitted from the ancestor to his descendants, from the parent to 
his children; nor transferred by any conceivable improvement 
in the art of education, (without time and toil,) from the instruc- 
tor to his pupils. 

An experienced mathematician, may communicate in two 
years, to a young man of good talents, and capable of severe ap- 
plication, all that is most valuable in the mathematical science, 
which the human mind has been toiling to attain during suc- 
cessive millenniums, and by the combined and successive exer- 
tions of millions of gifted intellects; But, in building a ship or a 
house, in fabricating a nail or a pin, in constructing a press, or 
correcting a proof-sheet, every succeeding artist must repeat 
the very movements and operations, and can acquire practical 
dexterity and skill, solely by repeating the very movements and 
operations, by which such dexterity and skill were originally 
acquired. 

No sage at fifty years of age, however profound his wisdom, 
or persuasive his eloquence, can impart the results of his 
wisdom, his self-command, prudence, and knowledge of the 
world, to a young man of twenty-five. 

These observations will, he trusts, convey to liberal minds, 
an apology for the unusual number of typographical errors in 
this volume. 

A few of these errors are noticed in the following list:— 

In page xiii, line 22, read the orbs. 

35, 18, omit the, before events. 

54, 13, for human, read manual. 

57, 1, for divisible, read indivisible. 

57, 19, for theatre, read arena. 

60, 6, for defined and definition, read explained and 

explanation. 

64, 3, from the bottom, for phenomena, read phenomenon. 

77, 2, for interspersed, read interposed 

78, 11 and 12, omit the words, a series of. 
78, 18, for preserves, read preserve. 

96, 19, omit the words, the most genial element and. 



ERRATA. 

In page 105, line 6, read at fthe individuals who compose. 

109, 24, for could, read can. 

175, 13, for faces, read face. 

177, 8, after the word reach, read, of their natural attrac- 

tion. 

184, 11, read after merely in, &c; or omit the words, not for 

deficiency merely in, but often for the total exclusion 
of, and substitute, for the negation of 

241, 15, readj^rew, in place of grow. 

% 

lO™ The reader is respectfully requested to " remember to 

forget" the incongruous jumble of metaphors in the fourth, 
fifth, and sixth paragraphs of page xiiith. — Laugh at it, young 
reader; it is truly ludicrous. 



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